


Of Beechen Green and Shadows Numberless

by PrittlePrince, thatviciousvixen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explores their relationship through the framework of the show, Follows Canon, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of Violence, but sure ain't canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter in Baltimore brings the return of the Chesapeake Ripper, and with it, a dull roar that seems to build in Will Graham’s mind. As The Ripper's attacks begin to strike closer and closer to home and Will feels the weight of the Ripper’s interest, he seeks comfort in an unlikely source. Will he and Frederick be able to survive murder and mental illness, as well as their own demons?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Will Graham looked up at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, stretched like a monolith before him. He hated this place. He’d never even set a foot inside of it, but he knew from every other correctional hospital like it that these were awful buildings full of awful people that wanted to do awful things to him-and that wasn’t even taking the inmates into account. Every mental hospital he’d visited was full of egos ready to pick him apart, put him in a holding tank so they could tour the dark recesses of his mind and see what made him so damn _odd_. It was never any different; no one ever looked at him like a person, he was always a specimen. 

But inside was Abel Gideon, who claimed to be the Chesapeake Ripper. So here was Will Graham, taking long strides to keep up with Jack Crawford as they approached the hospital entrance.

“I’d appreciate it if you let me do most of the talking,” Jack said curtly. “We’ve consulted with the head of the hospital, Dr. Chilton, before.”

“Frederick Chilton,” Will said slowly, weighing the name on his tongue. “I’ve read some of his papers. I found one on the social aspects of rats under the power of suggestion interesting.”

“Something in it catch your eye?”

“No,” Will said, shrugging. “It was interesting because it was all bullshit.”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s not the most popular man in his field,” he admitted, hands tucked in the pockets of his coat. They entered the hospital, taking a moment to stamp the snow off of their shoes and shrug out of their scarves and jackets. “However he _is_ the one who’s had the most experience with Abel Gideon, so do your best not to alienate him.”

Will frowned, letting his glasses slide down his nose. “I never try to alienate anyone. I never have enough of a stronghold in social groups. _I’m_ always the alien, Jack.”

“Well today you’re a consultant, so act like it,” Jack warned as they passed through security.

A few minutes later they were led into an ornate office, decorated lavishly with expensive furniture and plenty of art on the walls. Will let his eyes sweep over the extensive collection of books to the decanter of scotch tucked away on a table, surrounded by delicate looking crystal glasses. This was clearly a man who prided himself in outward appearances. Quite a bit of thought had gone into the image the office presented. It looked like something out of a catalogue, decorated for company that never came.

“Dr. Chilton,” Jack said, smiling as he offered his hand. “Good to see you again. I’d like to introduce Will Graham, he’s consulting on this case.”

Frederick stepped towards them with a wry smile on his face, extending his hand for Jack’s although his attention was very much on Will, eyes raking over him unabashedly.

“Ah, Mr Graham, Jack has told me quite a bit about you. Can I call you Mr. Graham? Or is it Doctor Graham?” Frederick’s smile was a byproduct of his intense interest as he took in Will’s appearance with lightening speed: comfortable but work-appropriate clothing. Zero effort to stand out. Complete lack of eye contact. Frederick was practically salivating with curiosity.

“I’m not a doctor,” Will said, working hard to avoid eye contact with the man. He focused instead on his left shoulder, eyes fixed.

Frederick’s smile widened as he made no attempt to hide his interest.

“You’re not FBI, either,” he stated flatly. “Thats a temporary identification badge.”

“Mr. Graham teaches at the Academy,” Jack informed him, voice warm. Will was always so amazed at his ability to schmooze. Most of the time Jack had no qualms shouting orders and making demands, but if someone held information he needed he was all charm and deference.

“Ahh! A teacher!” Frederick’s eyes dancing with mirth as a sly smirk just barely tinged the edges of an otherwise genuine smile. He pressed a hand flat along his tie to straighten it before gesturing to two handsome chairs.

“Please gentlemen, have a seat!”

Will sat with great reluctance, unwilling to show any sort of comfort or relaxation in this place. He felt awkward, and his words and actions would show it. As Jack and Chilton made small talk he once again swept the room, mind going over the facts of the case.

“Why was a nurse left alone with a prisoner in a high security psychiatric hospital?” Will’s voice cut through their conversation, the accusation clear in his tone. It was something that had been bothering him since Jack had told them of their destination and the events surrounding it. Something didn’t seem right about this hospital, everything seemed legitimate on the surface but he could feel the undercurrent of lies running beneath.

Like a hawk, Frederick watched Will as he took in the room. Even as Will asked him the difficult question, his interest waned only slightly as a more sombre look fell into place. “For the two years since he was brought here, Gideon’s behaved perfectly and gave every appearance of cooperating with attempts at therapy.” Frederick’s voice was soft as he eyed Will. He’d barely looked at Jack since the men had entered the room.

“Security around him was slightly… relaxed.” He finally looked away, true remorse causing an unmistakable tightening in his posture. His fingers traced along the polished wood of his desk and his eyes followed.

“I cannot help but feel…. responsible.” If they only knew how deep the guilt went. The scene was clear in Frederick’s mind. Abel Gideon did not even remotely fit the profile of the Chesapeake Ripper, who never repeated a murder. And here it was in perfect detail, a carbon copy of the very last known murder by the Ripper, recreated by Abel Gideon who truly believed he was the serial killer. It would take convincing to prove Abel was the Ripper, and that Frederick had no coerced him, accidentally or not. Tension sat high in Frederick’s shoulders. The believability of his story stood on very _sandy_ ground.

“I did not see it coming.”

“I understand, doctor.” From Jack’s tone, Will couldn’t place if this was legitimate sympathy or an attempt to appease the man who held the keycard that would get them into the crime scene. “Mr Graham’s going to need to see the crime scene with as much privacy as you can provide.”

Irritably, Frederick pushed his guilt aside in favour of the object of his scrutiny.

“Ah yes,” he said, his voice all reverence and gentle teasing, “that thing you do.”

“You’re quite the topic of conversation in psychiatric circles, Mr. Graham.” He stood up and rounded the table, leaning against it with one hand as he bore down on Will with intense fascination shining in his eyes.

“Am I,” Will muttered to the ground, in no way phrasing it as a question. He knew full well what people said about him, people’s feelings and opinions were his particular talent. He knew how many people longed to interview him, to put him on display.

“A unique cocktail of personality disorders and neuroses that make you a highly… _skilled_ profiler.” Frederick’s eerie smile only grew.

“He’s not here to be analyzed-” Jack started, but Frederick jumped ahead with the same wide smile.

“Well maybe he ought to be…” He looked down his nose at Will.

“We are woefully short of material of your sort of thing, Mr. Graham…. How would you feel about speaking to some of the staff?” Frederick slid a possessive hand along the back of Will’s chair but did not touch him.

“Doctor,” Will said firmly, head jerking up. Of all the people in the world he might grant his insights to, Frederick Chilton was not going to be one of them. Not if it would save a life, not if it would save a _thousand_ lives.

Frederick backtracked immediately, his hands spanning in surrender.

“Oh no, of course. Not this trip. Perhaps… a special visit?”

Will stood, grabbing his bag and holding it tightly to his chest. He squared off with Chilton, finally meeting his gaze. “I think I’d like to see the crime scene now.”

*

Will stared at the corpse displayed like a pincushion, head filled with an unpleasant sort of buzzing. _The poor woman_. He could tell from her neat outfit and the remnants of her tidy bun that she took pride in her appearance, which made it clear that she took pride in her job. She had family, family that never failed to remind her what a success she’d become, how strong she was for working in a building full of so many dangerous people. 

Now she was a piece of ragged, bloody meat, displayed as a sort of trophy for all to see.

Jack and Dr. Chilton were talking in the background, a low hum that failed to register with Will as he surveyed the scene. He closed his eyes.

_He was being wheeled into the nurse’s station, handcuffed to the gurney as they locked the wheels and left. He could hear the nurse bustling about, could feel the gentle press of the pads that fed information to the monitor checking his vitals. The steady beeping of his heart filled the air, steady and unwavering._

_It didn’t take long for him to pick the lock. The fork tine concealed just under his skin made it easy, and soon he was free. The oxygen mask came off first, monitor lines soon following. By the time the monitor flatlined he was behind the nurse, raising to his full height and breadth._

_She was easy to take down. He’d been good for so long, pretending to be the model patient who never stepped out of line and did anything Chilton and his cronies asked. How humiliating, to subjugate one’s self so readily, to be forced to play the part of model prisoner. But now, seeing the nurse squirm and struggle under him, it was all worth it. They wanted the Chesapeake Ripper? He would give them the Chesapeake Ripper. Making short work of her eyes, he stepped away and surveyed his handiwork as she attempted to crawl to safety._

_“Now,” he said, strolling over to block her path. “Let’s get you dressed up.”_

Will opened his eyes, shaking right down to his toes. His eyes were watering, skin pale and clammy as he tried to remove himself from the revery. Turning, he smoothed his shaking hands along the front of his pants. “Um. As far as we know it’s been over two years since the Chesapeake Ripper killed?” He swallowed hard as he regarded Jack.

“That’s correct.”

“When was Gideon admitted?”

Jack gave him a knowing look. “Over two years ago.”

As memories of two years ago came flooding back like a frozen wave, Jack visibly stiffened. Visions of an eager, but smart Miriam Lass stood out in his mind as she surveyed the Ripper's handiwork. Her panicked voice through the phone haunted him.

Standing off to the side with his hands folded in front of him, Frederick inclined his head to look at Jack.

"I believe the reason you failed and continued to fail to catch the Ripper was because I already had him..." His eyes switched to Will briefly but quickly danced away again. He appeared distinctly disquieted by the clear effect Will's vision had had on the profiler. He took in the cold sweat, the slight shake in his hands before addressing the scene again.

*

The restless _snapsnapsnap_ of a pen hitting the table filled the cavernous room. Cold sunlight filtered through and washed across the desk as Frederick sat reclined in his plush leather chair, eyes staring unseeing at nothing in particular. He chewed his lip and flicked his pen absently as he considered his first meeting with Will Graham. 

Dogging Will tactlessly as though he were some kind of pet rabbit, Frederick had bullied him and spoke callously. He'd ogled him and put him on the spot. He'd been incredibly rude. In Frederick's defence it was his shtick, a mechanism to keep others at a safe distance. Exert confidence even where it ought not be and stumble through the everyday with his head held high.

His fascination with Will had been real, though. Was real. But Frederick was starting to worry how dangerous that kind of fascination was. He knew all about Jack Crawford's prodigee Miriam Lass and had watched Jack very carefully after they'd lost her. Jack had clearly been devastated but had blamed everyone around him instead of seeing the flaws in his own actions.

And now here he was with another gifted individual, who was of much less sound mind than Miss Lass, and he was thrusting the young man in danger's way. Frederick wanted to believe Abel was the Ripper but knew he wasn't, had very clear proof he wasn't. Even more so than the FBI. But they knew as well. Which was why it was disconcerting to watch as Jack put Will on the front line, even armed with that knowledge. Jack was going to lose Will just as he'd lost Miriam.

Seeing the situation as a whole now Frederick felt very foolish for pushing Will, and in his own way felt sorry for him. Will certainly wasn't a perfect person, but he didn't deserve to die over something he cared little about just to perform a function for Jack Crawford that clearly caused him physical and psychological damage. It didn’t work to intimidate someone who couldn’t help but be themselves. Frederick knew that perfectly well. It was wrong of him to play the part of the tormentor.

He huffed somewhat petulantly and grabbed his phone. This would be the third time he'd called Will. He'd left a message the first time, asking about perhaps meeting up for lunch. He'd wanted an opportunity to apologize, but instead opted to offer they discuss the case over coffee. Not being a particularly titillating idea after their last meeting, Frederick was sure, Will couldn’t be blamed for not being interested. It had been three days and a second call later and Will had neither picked up or returned his call. When the rings ended in another robotic voicemail prompt, Frederick hung up. He stood, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He was going to catch Will where the man couldn't escape him.

*

"As you can see, the scratch marks aren't consistent with typical wound patterns associated with self-defense. I've passed out copies of the crime scene photos, I want you to examine them then take the next twenty minutes explaining where the lacerations came from." Will clicked a button on his laptop, bringing up the photos in question. His class eagerly rushed to pull out their pens, the scratch of hurried writing filing the air. 

With a sigh Will walked towards the doorway, having dutifully ignored the man standing there for the last ten minutes. "Dr. Chilton," he greeted, folding his arms over his chest. "I apologize for being so hard to get hold of lately, Jack has been utilizing all my spare time with this Ripper case." Will kept a decent amount of space between them, carefully looking over Chilton's shoulder. "What was it that you needed? I have ten minutes or so. "

Since their first meeting he had been wary, careful to avoid Chilton's curious gaze. Now he was pinned, unable to make some excuse and duck out. Where was Jack now, when he actually needed an out?

Dutifully respecting the distance Will had chosen to put between them, Frederick glanced over Will's shoulder with interest.

"Yes, I'm very sorry about being so persistent. There was something I couldn't get off my mind..." He smiled gently.

"Your students really seem to respect you." Despite Will's inability to engage through eye contact, his students had been very attentive throughout the lecture, and now they were writing with gusto, sharing ideas and discussing the photos with great interest. Frederick felt an odd pang of envy but pushed it away. He returned his attention to Will.

"There is something I'd like to discuss with you but here is not quite appropriate..." He fidgeted nervously with his coat.

"It's unrelated to the case."

Will looked out over the sea of trainees, watching as they eagerly worked on their assignment. Most of them were fine, respectful and eager to please. Those were the ones who wouldn’t make it. Usually it was the egos, the Jack Crawfords that clawed their way through. Will respected that, as much as he didn't personally like them. It took an iron spine to survive this career path. Otherwise it would eat you alive. 

Will spared Chilton a fleeting moment of eye contact before looking back down. "Um. I haven't eaten yet. You could join me for dinner, if you'd like." He was curious over this change in Chilton's attitude. The man had seemed so unbearable, and how he was...almost pleasant. 

Delighted, Frederick clasped his hands together. He truly hadn't expected Will to agree so easily, never mind _offer_ to spend more time together. 

"Yes! Yes, absolutely!" He shifted awkwardly, trying to tone down his grin.

"Thank you," he added hesitantly after a beat. It sounded foreign coming out of his mouth, and he was almost sad to think of how long it'd been since he'd been genuinely thankful for something so simple. 

"I'll just wait here for you then... Unless, do you have an office?" He felt a little unkind asking, after he'd nearly laughed at Will's profession only a few days ago while the man had been forced to stand in Frederick's own auspicious office.

Feeling the sudden urge to confess his guilt, Frederick opened his mouth as if to start his apologies, but he thought better of it and glanced away without saying a word. There would be time for that later.

Will gave a wry smile. "When I have an office people expect me to be there." With that he turned, walking back to the front of the room. The rest of the class went uneventfully; everyone was eager to participate, hands waving anxiously in the air as they waited to be called on. The entire time Will was aware of his audience, trying to be a little more engaging than normal. 

Twenty minutes later he wrapped up, sticking around to answer some last minute questions the students had. When the room was finally clear he turned to Frederick, slinging his messenger over his shoulder. 

"Anything specific you prefer to eat?" He asked cautiously. He was always more comfortable with other people's choices, making those decisions gave too much of his personality-and privacy-away. 

Feeling very lucky to be able to observe Will doing something he actually enjoyed, Frederick had leaned in the doorway and waited patiently. Will could have sent him to the foyer or asked him to wait in the car, but he'd instead gifted Frederick the ability to simply watch him, and Frederick was surprised at the wave of gratitude that rose in him. Perhaps apologizing wouldn't be as difficult as it seemed.

As the last student rushed from the room, barely sparing him a glance, Frederick stepped inside, trying to imagine Will sitting in this room and grading papers when it was dim and silent. Will needed simplicity and order to be able to focus, Frederick could tell. This room was the perfect habitat for such a man.

Turning his attention to dinner, Frederick realized Will probably wouldn't appreciate a lavish meal, or being schmoozed at all. If he wanted his apology to be taken seriously he was going to have to tone down his everyday opulence.

"There's a taco place not far from here... Not very elegant, but their fish tacos are fantastic. You probably already knew that." Frederick turned away, pretending to take in the room.

"If you're amenable. It's on me." He waited a breath.

"I'm grateful for your time."

Will was unable to hide his surprise at the offer. He had assumed Frederick would suggest some fussy, excessive restaurant where he would feel astonishingly under-dressed and out-classed. A hole in the wall taco joint was exactly what he wanted after a long day of teaching. He regarded Frederick closely. 

"I just...want to make it clear that we won't be talking about my disorder," he said slowly. He was looking down, hands gripping the strap of his bag. "I'm very adamant when it comes to being psychoanalyzed."

"I promise that is not on my agenda for the foreseeable future." Frederick tried to say it reassuringly. He'd give a proper apology when the right moment presented itself.

Slightly reassured, Will relaxed his stance. "Alright. Alright good. Where are you parked? I'll follow you to the restaurant." 

Together they shrugged on their coats and ventured into the snow. Frederick spent the majority of the short drive watching his mirror, half expecting Will to change his mind and bail. It was a relief when they parked and Will joined him as they walked to the entrance, shielding themselves from light flurries as it began to get dark. Frederick held the door and they stepped inside.

It was clearly a busy night, but they managed to find a comfortable looking booth tucked away in the corner, with a good view of the kitchen and a bit of privacy. As they sat down, Frederick avoided eye contact, tugging nervously on his scarf. Self-doubt began to nag at him. It had been a considerable amount of time since he’d socialized outside of work functions. Rising through the ranks at the hospital meant he’d been much more comfortable lately to be on the warpath, careless of the attitude of others. He was worried returning to civility could turn out to be a rough transition.

He hadn’t prepared himself to give what was doubtlessly going to be an inelegant apology. He had just sort of thought it would come. Now that he was going to actually have the opportunity, he had nearly forgotten why he’d wanted to in the first place. He’d said plenty of regrettable things without a second thought as to whether he should apologize for them later. That cavalier attitude was what had gotten him through tough times straight out of medical school when his peers had whispered behind his back about his failures. And there were plenty to whisper about. Voluntarily pulling down his defences was starting to seem like a terrible idea. He hadn’t even thought about his motives. What was the end goal? Worrying his lip, he stared blindly at the one-page laminated menu and sadly did not notice the very tempting aroma of spices and tortillas.

Will on the other hand was quite overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds around them. The restaurant was brightly lit and bustling, the buzz of conversation filling the room. This was clearly a place that prided itself on its food, the decorations were minimal but the menu was extensive. Picking up his menu, he scanned quickly over the possibilities. He was never much for fuss; Chilton had mentioned the fish tacos, that would be more than alright. He was more concerned about getting a beer and getting it quickly. While Will was no alcoholic he was absolutely more relaxed with a cold bottle in hand. He also needed something to pop a few aspirin with.

Setting down his menu, he regarded the man sitting across from him. He felt safe looking, as Chilton was fidgeting with his own menu and clearly struggling with some thought or point he wanted to make. Why the hell were they there? When he had been invited it was under the assumption that Chilton had something to discuss with him, some case to bring up. Now they sat in awkward silence, something Will had always been keen on avoiding. He was awkward enough without forced interactions.

Once the two men had ordered their drinks and a round of chips and guacamole Will sat back, folding his arms. “So,” he started, head tilted curiously. “You mentioned there was something you wanted to discuss with me?” 

Finally coming into himself, Frederick glanced up, looking mildly startled.

“Yes…” He folded his hands on the table. This is was going to be terrible, he admitted to himself. Feeling dismally unsure, he carried on.

“The other day, when we met…” he pressed his thumbs together, giving Will a wary look. “I was quite… rude. To you.” He let the activities of the other patrons draw his gaze as he continued.

“I don’t know what came over me. I was brutish, and disrespectful. Its become clear to me that you are under quite a bit of pressure, so to speak.” _What an understatement_. He inwardly groaned. He’d _bullied_ Will. Couldn’t he just say it?

“I’m very sorry about that.” He tapped his fingers anxiously against the table, eager for a distraction to arrive in the form of their drinks. He gave Will a wary sideways glance.

Will sat in silence for a moment, stunned as he looked at him. Of everything Dr. Chilton could have said, an apology was the last thing he would have expected. He didn’t know many people who were willing to ingratiate themselves like that; Dr. Lecter analyzed him without permission and without remorse. Jack Crawford pushed him on the field until he felt like a shell of himself. Alana Bloom wouldn’t even be in a room alone with him, like he might lash out at any given moment.

Will started at their drinks were set down, grateful for the momentary diversion of ordering food. As the waitress walked away he took a long sip of his beer, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Well,” he said slowly, picking up a napkin and fussing with it. “I appreciate that. And I accept. I mean, I know it must be hard to resist questioning someone like me, I’m not exactly _normal_.” He sighed, pushing some hair back off of his forehead. “More importantly I’m not used to apologies, so it means a lot to me to actually get one.”

Looking up, he managed a rare smile. “So, truce?”

Frederick returned the small smile, relief evident as his entire body relaxed against the back of the seat.

“Honestly,” Frederick huffed, taking a large gulp of his beer, “You’re not a _toy_. I was incredibly insensitive. And in light of the way I watched both Jack _and_ Alana treat you, my tactlessness became apparent. I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t immediately regretful of what I’d said. I should really know better.” He leaned forward slightly in his seat.

“How _has_ it been with Jack, anyway?” His voice held a somewhat conspiratory tone as he grabbed a chip with a liberal scoop of guacamole.

Will laughed, shaking his head. “Just like it usually is. He stands by the idea that I’ll save more lives in the field than in the classroom. Meanwhile Alana is worried that my instability is being tested, and that I’m too close to all of this. It feels like I’m the rope in a very aggressive game of tug of war.” He sighed, grabbing a chip and nibbling around the edges. 

“Now I have a question for you. I know serial killers are inherently evil and not-good people. Now is it me, or is Abel Gideon an absolute _dick_?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Will cracked, grinning wide at the look of surprise on Chilton’s face.

Frederick tried to hide behind his beer but mirth took over and he chuckled openly. It was nice to see Will opening up; cracking jokes and making eye-contact. He forced himself not to engage the dark thoughts he had been pushing back concerning Abel Gideon. His belief he was the Ripper, Frederick’s hand in that. The eventual murder of the nurse ( _in my hospital_ , he kept thinking), and the part he had obviously played in it all. Guilt hovered around him like a wet blanket, but he pushed it away and focused on Will’s contagious smile.

“In our earlier sessions, he was unwieldy. He lashed out a lot. Delighted in humiliating and teasing me. Later, he actually became a pleasure to talk to. He was witty, charismatic, and engaging. Its no wonder security had been relaxed around him. He had charmed just about everyone.” He smiled unevenly at his beer before taking another casual swig, elbows on the table.

Will nodded, swallowing a mouthful of guacamole. “Absolutely, he’s definitely charming. When he wants to be. He was infuriating during our interviews,” he said with a snort. “Evasive, cocky, you know the profile. Most of the time it’s satisfying picking apart a murderer, but him...I just want to shake him and tell him to get over himself.”

Will looked around the restaurant, relaxing as he took another sip of beer. He had gone with one the waitress suggested, light and crisp and brewed somewhere in state. It definitely hit exactly the spot he needed it to, especially after spending his day juggling his classes and emails from Jack. 

Turning back to his companion, he leaned his elbows on the table. “How long have you been at the institute, Dr. Chilton?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Almost twelve years actually. I worked out of state before then. The hospital has been very welcoming. I’ve seen a lot of action since I started here.” Frederick raised his voice slightly and leaned further over the table to be heard over the raucous table beside them. Will was oddly comfortable despite the huge crowd. Frederick wasn’t sure what he expected.

“Do you live in the city?” He asked, finishing his beer. It warmed his cheeks and he was strangely comfortable despite his earlier anxiety. He found he liked the way Will was nibbling on his chips. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but there was a small glow of pleasantness forming in his chest.

“Oh God no,” Will chuckled. “I live over in Wolf Trap. Pretty much in the middle of the woods, my nearest neighbor is a few miles away. Luckily I can get everywhere I need to go within an hour, and the drive is worth it if I get to keep my sanity.”

He looked over at the next table, eyebrows raised as they took turns doing shots of tequila and cheering. “I’m not terribly social. Not necessarily miserable in big groups, just...I like to have my space. And most people I meet have no prior knowledge of me, and it seems rude to say, ‘Oh, sorry, I have problems with eye contact and over-reading your emotions.’”

Frederick felt oddly self-conscious at that, but he offered a wry smile. He hoped Will wasn’t empathizing too much with him or his meal would be quite gloomy.

“It must be a burden…” He found himself saying without much forethought. “Sorry. Perhaps it isn’t. I promised I wouldn’t ask about that!” He laughed, backpedaling swifty and leaning back into the booth.

“That sounds lovely. If you’re going to live somewhere remote, it may as well be beautiful. I actually know Wolf Trap. I went dog sledding there with my grandfather long before I had ever moved here. I was only a child, but I remember it vividly. I actually haven’t been back since.” But he did remember. The snowy trees sailing past him as the powder muffled the sounds of the dog’s heavy breathing. The fur hood tied tightly around his face and the canvas belts locking him into the sled. He hadn’t thought of that in a long time.

Will grinned, finishing his beer and setting the empty bottle aside. “I’ve never been dog sledding. I could probably start my own business though, I have six dogs. Sorry, seven now. I just rescued a stray the other day.” He laughed at Frederick’s startled face. “I...have a tendency to collect strays.” He looked up at the man sitting across from him, offering a crooked smile and not realizing just how true his statement was.

*

Will led Frederick out of the restaurant, laughing at a story he’d just finished as they stepped into the cold. Immediately raising the collar of his jacket against the wind, he looked up into the soft flurry falling around them.

“Well, thanks for dinner,” he chuckled. “I um. This is a great restaurant.” He blushed, quickly looking down. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon, Dr. Bloom expressed interest in coming back for another go at Gideon. I think this time I’ll just start by telling him he’s an asshole, see where that gets me.” He grinned, looking back up.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Frederick couldn't resist an answering smile to Will’s own. Everytime the man’s eyes lit up and he grinned or laughed, Frederick just wanted to do the same. Though he still worried about Jack, he thought Will was actually doing much better than first appearances had suggested.

“As long as I can watch. No matter how many times I want to, I can _never_ say what I really want to say to him. I’d undermine myself in a minute, with the way he knows me. As his doctor I’d be on the outs.” He tipped forward slightly, giving Will a wry smile. “I bet you’d get something out of him though if you brought up Ms Bloom. Loathe though I am to even suggest it.” He looked up suddenly, flipping a bit of snow from his hair.

“To be honest, I’m not sure why he doesn’t find you interesting…” Frederick shut his mouth abruptly, a gentle flush creeping across his face.

“ _Psychologically_ , I mean.” His eyes widened and he looked away, absolutely furious that his mouth always just seemed to carry on without him. He wrapped his scarf around his neck a little aggressively.

“I should probably go before this gets worse. Thanks again for your time, Mr. Graham. And...Sorry, again.”

Will laughed lightly, shaking his head at Frederick’s desperate attempt to say just the right thing. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at reading intentions.” He fished his keys out of his pocket, brushing some snow off of his shoulder. “Thanks again, Dr. Chilton.” With a nod and one last fleeting smile he disappeared into his car, heading back to the apparent safety of Wolf Trap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you find friends where you least expect them.

Will parked his car in front of the Institute, killing the engine and sitting for a moment in silence. From a distance the building looked so picturesque, serene and blanketed in a thin covering of the snow that had fallen last night. It was a sharp contrast to what the building housed on the inside, violent offenders with little regard for human life. It also housed Frederick Chilton, the main reason for his visit.

With a groan Will scrubbed his hands through his hair, mussing it up beyond repair. It was almost comical how things had changed over the course of a few days. Before it had been Chilton calling again and again, leaving messages and finally just showing up in a place he couldn’t escape. Now it was Will springing himself on Chilton, although he hadn’t had the guts to actually call.

He didn’t know why he’d grown so obsessed with seeing him, it wasn’t a friendship he’d ever thought would develop. But there was something innately _charming_ about Dr. Chilton, something he hadn’t seen until they relaxed and had a few beers together. Underneath the cocky exterior there was someone as wry and self-aware as him, something he rarely experienced. 

With a sigh he got out of his car, the salted sidewalk crunching under his feet. It was a quick jaunt through security (one of the few perks of working for Jack) and soon he was being waved into Chilton’s office by a bored-looking secretary. Will tentatively knocked on the door before opening it and peeking in. “Frederick?”

The entire morning has been a disaster for Frederick. Some things concerning the murder that had recently taken place in the hospital had left other things unattended for too long and Frederick had been desperately trying to sort them out with very slow progress. The last administrator had left, or been fired, and Frederick had been promoted; a position he would have greedily welcomed if not for the circumstances. He’d spent years of his career aiming for the top. Now that he was here it was a complete catastrophe. Knowing it would not always be this way was a small light at the end of a seemingly long and dark tunnel.

Magnifying his anxiety was the fact that Will Graham kept sneaking into his thoughts, distracting him from productive work and leaving him drained by the end of the day. A weeks worth of administrative cleanup had amounted to maybe three solid days of hard work and countless moments thinking about the lovely glow he had been living with since his dinner with Will. The man had literally cost him hours. He’d meant to find time to call or visit (if only to satisfy the strange social animal that had begun to develop in him with eyes only for Will Graham) but his current workload was hugely demanding.

With a sigh, Frederick rubbed aggressively at his temple and placed his head on the pile of paperwork before him, trying to find relief. _If Will Graham was going to take up so much of his time, he could at least be here_ , Frederick thought facetiously. 

As though being summoned, the very well-remembered and oft-thought of head of Will Graham appeared inside the door of Frederick’s office and the doctor nearly jumped out of his chair as though he was seeing a ghost.

“Will!” Frederick stood, his startled expression quickly turning to one of barely-contained joy. As he walked around his desk he motioned eagerly for Will to enter. 

Will smiled sheepishly, walking in and kicking the door shut behind him. Frederick was clearly running on empty, it made sense with the recent string of bad press the hospital had gotten. As administrator he would be working on clean-up, making sure everything was once again running smoothly. Add that to his duties with patients and board meetings and the like and Dr. Chilton would be stretched quite thin. Will felt a pang of guilt at that. Had he chosen the worst possible time to visit?

He had already planned the story in his head, ready to tell Frederick that he was looking for the badge he’d worn during his second visit to the Institute; _I haven’t seen it since that day in your office, tell me you’ve stumbled across it?_ However when he opened his mouth, nothing but the simple truth came out.

“I was in the area,’ he admitted, fidgeting in the large leather chair across from Chilton’s desk. He ran his fingers across the buttery fabric of the arm, tracing the grommets hammered in for aesthetic purposes. “I figured you must have had a stressful week, so um...would you be interested in a coffee break?”

He looked thoroughly embarrassed as he blurted the question out, color rising high in his cheeks.

Even Frederick was startled by the peculiar laughter that bubbled out of him as Will offered a sweet reprieve from the grueling work. He leaned a hip against the desk and rubbed at his face. As though a prayer had been answered, here sat Will Graham, ready to steal him away even if only for a short time. He stuck his hands in his pockets and gave Will a very serious, considering look.

“ _¡Dios mío_ , you have no idea. Yes. Please, yes get me out of here!” An eager, if not tired, smile had graced his face as his shoulders sagged. He probably looked absurd, half-perched on his desk with incredibly poor posture, but he barely had the energy to stand. Will was going to have to hook him up to caffeine by IV.

Will’s lips quirked up at the corner, a hopeful little grin as he stood. “Come on, I’ll drive. I think you’d wreck the car if you were behind a wheel right now.” Leading Frederick out of his office and past the secretary, who still looked bored, Will shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked. “Has Freddie Lounds been in yet for her interview with Gideon?” It was clear that Will had a strong distaste for the woman and the whole scheme Jack and Alana had come up with. “I tried to warn them against it. If the Ripper IS still out there it’s going to force his hand and he’ll kill again.” He tried not to sound as sure as he felt that the Ripper was still at large. A few days ago he would have been willing to frankly tell Frederick that Abel Gideon wasn’t him, but now he felt the need to tread lightly.

Unlocking his car, Will slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Nothing fancy,” he shrugged. “I’ve never been much of a car guy.”

With a happy sigh Frederick slid into the passenger seat and sunk back, eyes closing with relief.

"S'comfortable." Frederick's clasping his hands in his lap, allowing himself to relax now that he was alone with Will.

"Yes, absolutely," he sighed. "She's been by more than once actually. He didn't like her much as first but now they seem to be quite close."

“I’m pretty simple,” Will said with a soft laugh. “I’d prefer a quiet life to flash, I guess.” Turning onto the main street, he started putting distance between Frederick and the Institute. “I don’t know if you have a preferred place, I was just going to head to that little diner on Main.”

"I need more simple in my life." Frederick murmured, rubbing his face. Thank goodness for Will Graham. The man might have been a constant presence in his mind lately but it was a welcome distraction. "Anywhere is fine with me, Mr Graham. You have no idea what a welcome surprise you are."

"Glad I could help," Will said, looking over his glasses as he made another turn. He didn't spend a ton of spare time in downtown Baltimore, just enough to know where to get a decent cup of black coffee. This place was small and quiet, and more importantly, he rarely ran into anyone he knew there. 

"How is everyone at the hospital handling the death of the nurse?" he asked cautiously. They hadn't spoken of it much, but he could feel the way it weighed on Frederick's mind. "Must be difficult. On one hand a death is a death, and that's always hard to compartmentalize. You always have to keep in mind though that these people knew what job they were signing up for. There's always a risk for people like us." 

He pulled into a particularly small parking lot, looking up at the small diner it serviced. "That probably came off as insensitive. I have that problem sometimes." 

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Frederick finally opened his eyes and turned to Will.

"Actually, no. I do appreciate the sentiment." He understood Will's intention and he appreciated it immensely. The problem was that Frederick was fairly sure the entire thing had been his fault. He had not intentionally meant to suggest to Gideon that he was the Ripper but at the time it had almost seemed like a golden ticket and he had been so close to a promotion...

Will's words were kind and meant to put Frederick at ease but it only reminded him that if he'd discouraged Gideon's belief he was the Ripper... or if he'd only never brought the Ripper up in the first place... or if he hadn't capitalized on the situation... There were a number of things that could have saved that woman's life and they all came back to him.

Frederick had played things on the straight and narrow for most of his career and now after his first slip up he'd indirectly murdered a beloved staff member. A woman with her whole life ahead of her. He might as well have done it himself... And the _way_ it had been done. She'd suffered. These were the things that kept Frederick up at night. If only he could admit to it...

"That's very kind of you. Unfortunately I'm quite sure this all comes down to my actions. And with definitive proof that Gideon isn't the Chesapeake Ripper... Well, I think I'll probably be living with this the rest of my life."

"But," he said, popping open the door, "we've all got demons."

"True enough," Will agreed, sliding out. He locked the car behind them, slipping the keys in his pocket. "Jack is dealing with his own right now, with the Ripper holding Miriam Lass' death over him." Will took a moment to ponder his own demons, brain flashing to Abigail Hobbs. He could feel the girl's blood, slick on his hands as he tried to staunch the flow. He could see Garrett Jacob Hobbs, satisfaction thick on his face. 

" _See?_ " he had cooed. " _See how good it feels?_ "

Shaking his head, Will lead Frederick into the diner. It was a quiet place; a few patrons sat with their newspapers at the counter, making small talk with the waitresses or engrossed in their phones. The entire sitting area was dimly lit, warm and calm to combat the frigid wind outside. 

"Will!" A short woman in her mid-forties came over, smiling wide. She looked like a typical diner waitress; an apron covered her powder blue, collared dress, gray hair in a messy bun. About six pens had been shoved into it for safe keeping. "Long time no see." 

Will let her manhandle him into a tight hug, awkwardly hugging back. "Sorry Angie. You know how work is." 

"I do, and I don't like it," she said, leading them to a booth. Vowing to return with coffee and menus, she disappeared. 

Will brushed his hair back, ending up looking wild and wide-eyed. "Are you hungry? I owe you a meal." 

Watching the exchange with amusement, Frederick nearly forgot the state he was in. The diner was cozy, simple and welcoming, and everything smelled absolutely amazing. Will seemed to fit right in. In his attire, Frederick felt a bit out of place.

“Yes, actually. But of course thats not necessary!” He put up his hands and smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten and he was feeling particularly sleep-deprived. It was oddly similar to being drunk, and the reality of it worried him a little. Perhaps he ought to go home and straight to bed after Will was on his way. Frederick reasoned an hour or so with Will might actually be enough to calm him into a decent nap. It was quite clear now, being in public and surrounded by people, that he was much too tanked to be of any use at work. It _would_ explain the mysterious lack of completed paperwork. That, or it was still Will’s fault, which Frederick didn’t mind settling on.

Placing a gentle hand between Will’s shoulders, Frederick encouraged Will to pick a booth, and as they both slid in Frederick slunk down again. With an dramatic groan, he leaned over the table with his chin in his hands as he peered at Will with red eyes.

“I’m tiiired,” He moaned petulantly, jokingly looking for sympathy. Talking about murder was making his head pound.

“I bet you are,” Will chuckled, sinking into the booth. He himself was worn ragged, spread thin between teaching at the Institute and this case with the Ripper. Every time he closed his eyes he saw mutilated bodies, stripped apart and set into some elaborate pose for Jack and the team to find. Added to that was Jack’s stress over finding Miriam Lass’ arm, so it had been quite the few days. Falling into bed at night had become a struggle, one that he lessened with the assistance of whiskey.

“Have you been able to get any sleep at all?” They had come to be so relaxed around each other, something that astounded Will. Just a few days prior they were nearly at each other’s throats, each with an agenda the other stood in the way of. How strange, that they had become allies. “You should take a few days off, I can’t imagine you’re getting much work done running on empty.”

How right Will was. Living with the guilt, plus the new batch of work he was taking on had drastically affected Frederick's sleep. In the past week alone he'd survived off of infrequent naps and short pre-morning dozes.

"I wish I could. They're counting on me to get things back in order at the hospital but I'm afraid I'm not of much use presently." He rubbed his eyes, frowning.

"You look a bit worn, yourself. Are the crime scenes taking their toll on you? I haven't much of a stomach for it myself..."

The waitress returned with coffee and menus and Frederick pulled his mug towards him possessively, opening three creamers into it before taking a rushed gulp.

“Can I please order the eggs benedict?” he added hastily before the waitress had gone too far. She gave him an amused nod (he imagined he must look very frazzled) and went to put the order in.

Will took his coffee black, taking a small sip as he mulled over Frederick’s question. _Were_ they taking a toll on him? Of course they were. It was the nature of the beast, his empathy made it astoundingly difficult to leave things at work. Lately...lately things had been especially bad. He swore he could see Hobbs popping up all over town, sitting in his class or behind the counter at the gas station he filled his hatch-back at. Bringing a hand up, he rubbed it wearily over his face.

“Maybe. Probably. I’ve just got a lot going on right now,, I guess. The Ripper is taunting us, I knew it was a bad move to goad him using Freddie Lounds.” He sighed, looking out the window. People rushed by, heads down and coats turned up as they tried to combat the bitter chill in the air. “I don’t think any of us will be getting much sleep until he’s caught, but he...he’s a clever one. It’s going to take something extreme, something that makes him slip up and show his hand.”

Taking another sip, he once again faced Frederick. “Let’s not talk about death anymore,” he said, giving a wry smile. “Let’s try to be normal adults who talk about normal adult things. Just for a little while.”

Frederick, feeling immediately soothed by his first sip of coffee in hours, nodded sagely, leaning his chin on one hand.

“If you do your… _thing_ , at every crime scene… Well. That can’t be good for you.” Frederick felt his eloquence was oddly elusive today. His exhaustion was wearing him down into a bizarre half-drunk version of his normal self. He took another appreciative gulp of his coffee, eyeing Will over the rim of the mug.

“I watched you when you first came to visit. It affects you. You find it hard to leave it behind.” He stated flatly.

“Well, how could you, really?” He murmured into his coffee. A thought came over him and he sat up straighter, giving Will a considering look. “But you should know, I have very much enjoyed our chats. They seem to... humanize everything. Ironic, considering how we’re associated, professionally.” Personally, Frederick thought, he wasn’t sure how they were associated. But their short time spent together had done well to relax him. Will might’ve been a bit of a distraction, but it was distracting Frederick from the worst of his thoughts, and for that he was grateful. He hoped he could offer even a measure of that comfort in return.

“It has been nice, hasn’t it?” Will asked, chin resting on his palm as he studied Frederick. “I’m usually, ah...not very social. But I’m sure you could have guessed that much. I would usually be the last to seek someone out like this. I enjoy it though. Socializing. With you.”

Will was inwardly appalled by his inability to properly express his thoughts. Not that he was ever the most poetic person, leave that to people like Dr. Lecter who seemed to always speak in verse. Still, he usually sounded a bit more intelligent at least. Everything was clearly starting to get to him.

He looked down at his coffee, absently swirling it in the mug. He did feel oddly calm at the moment. No sudden visions, no one else’s emotions weighing him down. Just a warm sort of contentment, enjoying someone’s company without any expectations layered on him. Even with Alana he felt on edge, carrying himself a different way and speaking with trepidation. Now he was loose, unhindered. 

With a small smile he looked up at Frederick, finishing his coffee before pouring a second cup. “You can go anywhere on vacation, all expenses paid and there’s nothing to worry about at work. You leave tomorrow. Where would you go?”

A bright smile lit up Frederick’s face and he relaxed back into the booth. Will was so easy to talk to. Frederick wondered how he’d found himself spending time with someone that made him feel so at ease.

“I… hmmm.” He looked outside, considering the weather and wondering what it was he actually wanted. What would he _prefer_ to what he had now? A vacation couldn’t change what he’d done, but in a perfect world where his mistakes and stresses wouldn’t influence his decision, he’d go somewhere with an air of regality, but without all the fuss.

“I think… Peru?” He looked at Will again, biting his lips with a thoughtful look.

“I like the history, the scenery, the textiles, the food… the _erotisism_ ,” he added with a slight tinge of pink colouring his cheeks. He glanced up as the waitress returned with a simply decadent looking plate of eggs and hollandaise. He thanked her excessively and immediately tucked in, as she continued to give the two of them amused looks. Was he really behaving that poorly? He coloured, and watched his plate pointedly.

“I assume you also have an answer to your own question, hmm? I’m curious about your answer. You are someone who continues to surprise me…”

“Don’t expect any surprises here,” Will answered with a grin. “I’d go to the mountains. North or south, I’m not particularly fussy. There needs to be a cabin, there needs to be an extensive amount of woods, and it needs to be about ten miles from any civilization.” He sat back, looking back out the window as he thought. “I could head to Florida, too. Maybe to the Keys, rent a little boat and spend days fishing. Essentially just a place where it’s quiet, and calm, and my cell phone doesn’t work.”

“Alright, your question,” he said, sitting up a bit. “Ask away.”

Fussing with the eggs on his plate, Frederick took a moment to think on the image of Will in the mountains. He saw him peacefully standing on a porch looking over the trees as fog rolled in on a cold fall morning. There was a coffee in his hand, and dogs at his feet, and a large green scarf piled under his chin. Frederick smiled.

“What do you want to do the most, that you’ve never done?” He chewed thoughtfully before adding, “It doesn’t even have to be something you _will_ do. Maybe its not in the cards. But that doesn’t mean you can’t wish you could, right?” He pointed at Will with his fork before tidying up his plate and pushing it away. A healthy glow had appeared on his face, and the soothing conversation and carb rush had him feeling very pleasant and relaxed.

Will hummed, drumming his fingers on the table-top as he thought. “Good question.” There were plenty of things that he’d never done that most people put on their bucket list; sky-diving, running with the bulls, seeing some foreign country with no internet service and a sketchy water supply. None of those things called out to him, maybe it was because his day to day life held enough risk without seeking it out.

“This seems so odd, and...slightly pathetic,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’d like to have a family some day. I never really had a sense of stability growing up, my dad and I moved around a lot. There wasn’t a lot of warmth. Even now, I haven’t surrounded myself with people I’d call my family. At some point I’d like to have that. Someone to worry about, to make plans with. Someone who I can see being there when I plan my dream vacation in the mountains.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m bringing the mood down.”

“Quite the opposite.” Frederick hummed contentedly and placed his hands in his lap as he gazed at Will over the table.

“You say that as if its such a bland thing, but it’s not. It’s rare. People talk about having children, or having a husband or a wife. They don’t talk about more than just the domesticity of ‘family’. Your family is whomever you chose to be with. It means security, stability… respect.” He took a moment to think. “Sharing your space, your experiences. Sometimes your family might grow, sometimes it might dwindle. Your family takes you for who you are; they’ll protect you but won’t try to change you.” 

To Frederick, family was very important. He understood what Will meant about having one. Now that his had dwindled somewhat, and he was getting older, he was starting to be aware of its absence more and more. The circle of people close to him had shrunk significantly, and after his grandparents had passed away, he’d spent less and less time with his mom and dad. He didn’t have any friends he could consider close. Will’s words had struck home.

“I guess...I’ve just come to view it as weakness. More now than ever before. Jack’s attachment and guilt over Lass…” Will shook his head. “It’s crazy, what people will use against you.’’ He thought of Abigail Hobbs, thought of sitting at her bedside or sleeping on the small couch in the hospital room. He was the one who had killed her father, what comfort could he possibly provide?

“Also, a piece of me is still afraid I’m more like Abel Gideon or Garrett Jacob Hobbs than I’d like to admit.” He gave a rueful smile, shrugging. “I’m afraid of who I might be, under the layers of neuroses.” 

Finishing his second cup, he slid the mug aside. “Alright, your turn. What’s your biggest wish? Number one on the bucket list,” he asked, smoothly attempting to change the subject.

Feeling a little put-out, Frederick played with his empty mug and kept his eyes on the table.

“I think it might be worth it, to put yourself in that vulnerable place. Don’t we do that all the time anyway for things we don’t even care about? If you’re going to do it, at least one time it could be only for you.” Frederick was thinking of Jack’s blatant abuse of Will’s ability. “If you’re afraid of who you might be, underneath it all, couldn’t it be the right move to have that buffer? To have someone that watches for that shadow, knows when you’re not yourself?” If only Frederick could follow his own advice.

“Sorry… I guess its easy to talk about it but in execution, it might actually seem pretty alarming. But, in my professional opinion, it is ludicrous to compare yourself to two deranged serial killers. Plus… they’re both quite gregarious. You, on the other hand,” He offered a teasing smirk, “are a bit more… restrained.” Pouring himself another cup of coffee, Frederick seemed to come back to himself a little.

“Hmmm. Sorry... Apparently I have some feelings about that.” He laughed. “You know, I’m a very indecisive person. I’m never sure what I really want or need. I think I need my own psychiatrist…. we’re all supposed to have one in our field anyway. Maybe they would be able to point me in the right direction.” If Frederick was able to fulfill his greatest wish, at the moment it would involve somehow going back in time to undo the damage he’d done that had ultimately led to the worst thing he’d ever done. Will didn’t need to know that.

Frederick wondered if his brief moments with Hannibal could be considered therapy. It seemed dubious at best. It was clear Hannibal was luring him into a false sense of security. He didn't need to hear that what he had done with Abel could be explained away. There was no positive, no excuse. It had been the wrong thing to do, and Frederick knew that with intense clarity.

“Look at that, you’ve roused me into being chatty. Still, nothing of much value seems to be coming out.” He laughed at himself a little, staring into his coffee. He’d have to be getting back soon. If he needed to bring work home with him for the weekend he would need to collect a substantial amount of paperwork before he forgot what was important.

“Well. Sometimes we say the most when we think we’re saying the least,” Will mused. 

Angie came over, bills in hand. “Here you go, boys,” she said, smiling indulgently.

“Oh, just one ticket actually,” Will said, pulling cash out and passing it to her. “No change.”

Angie nodded, ruffling his hair despite his quick jerk to escape the petting. “It was a pleasure meeting your friend, you better not wait as long to come back and see me.” With that she scooped up their dirty dishes, whisking away.

Once they were back in his car and returning to the Institute, Will’s mind returned to their game of questions. “Alright, one more before I drop you off,” he said, grinning as he glanced over. You get to watch one movie for the rest of your life. What do you choose?”

Frederick answered without hesitation.

“The Great Dictator.” He responded with surety. He glanced at Will and a small smile tugged at his lips before he looked back out the window. “It would remind me of the best and worst of what humankind is capable of. What I am capable of.” He did not elaborate.

“Now I have a question for you.” He fiddled slightly with the scarf around his neck, but did not face Will as he spoke. “Would you like to do this again? Sometime soon?”


	3. Chapter 3

Mournful blues floated softly through an expansive kitchen, lit only by a few warm lights around the centre island and cooking area. The scent of lime and coriander had begun slowly filling the whole house and Frederick sat at a stool leaning against the island, enjoying a stiff drink and a book as dinner cooked in the oven. The past few days had been remarkably less hectic thanks to a visit from Will Graham and a number of amusing texts that had succeeded in reducing Frederick's stress levels. 

Though bad thoughts continued to creep in, he was learning to step back from the situation a little and view it from a different perspective. The guilt was still his own, the reality still the same, but it was easier to start enjoying other things in his life. The simple, easy things. He was learning that from Will, who seemed to be an expert on the matter.

Across town Will was in a very different situation. With his ear still ringing from the shot fired at Tobias Budge, he left Hannibal Lecter’s office in a state of frenzy. His heart was still pounding, fingers sore from where he’d caught the cello strings before they’d cut into his windpipe, effectively stopping Budge before he could kill him. Then there was this mess with Lecter, the disarray he was in from trying to save his own skin. Everything felt so tangled and twisted, he was a fly trapped in a spider web struggling to free himself from its sticky strings.

Sliding into his car, Will let his forehead fall onto the steering wheel. _Fuck_. He could still hear that damn animal whining piteously somewhere. Or nowhere- he was beginning to realize that this was just another hallucination, something supplied by his addled brain to add to his panic and confusion.

Pulling his phone out, he swiped his thumb over the screen to pull up his contact list. Frederick would probably be relaxing now, much needed after his hectic week at the Institute. It would be thoughtless of Will to interrupt that, to bring more stress and violence into his life. He bit his lip, struggling with his conscience for a moment before sending a short text. To hell with it, if he was thoughtless he was thoughtless.

_Busy? Could use a friend. And alcohol._

With oven mitts and an apron on , Frederick took dinner out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool. As he sidled back onto the stool and leaned over the counter with his book, his phone began to buzz happily across the marble. Curious, he removed his reading glasses to read the text.

Concerned, Frederick responded immediately. He sent his address and an invite, and then stood to regard the kitchen. Glasses, wine (would Will want wine? Gin? Whiskey?) were laid out. He wiped his counters, set out two plates and then went about to tidy the rest of his home, feeling worried but also giddy. He stood for long moments regarding his bathroom mirror with a look of hopelessness, uselessly fussing with his hair and considering the top button of his oxford. Open? Closed? Will needed a friend, not a date. He left his top button done up, but rolled up his sleeves. He wanted to seem inviting. Will had never been to his home before, and his text had had a certain air of distress.

By the time he was satisfied, he heard an insistent knock at the door. He scrutinized his appearance once more before giving up and bustling down the stairs, the word _friend_ being repeated over and over like a happy mantra in his mind. He ran a hand nervously through his hair (undoing all of the fastidious styling he’d spent ten minutes perfecting) before he opened the door hastily.

As the door opened, Will realized how disastrous he must look. His shirt was rumpled and untucked, hair a disaster and glasses (as usual) crooked on his face. Unbeknownst to him there was a streak of dried blood on his neck, left there when he’d fired at Tobias. He managed a weary smile, releasing much of his tension at the sight of a friendly face.

“Hi. Sorry to spring this on you…”

Frederick gaped, arms falling limply at his sides.

"There's..." Frederick gestured to his own neck vaguely, making a concerned face. After a moment he motioned for Will to come inside, eyes dancing worriedly over the other man.

Will rubbed a hand over his face, following Frederick into the foyer. “I was attacked by a suspect. That case with the cellist, we tracked him down to his music shop. Managed to kill the two officers with me, but I was able to get a shot in to get him off of me.” As he told the story Will began to realize just how much his body ached. “He fled to Hannibal Lecter’s office, his roommate was a patient. Killed his roommate, tried to kill Dr. Lecter, but Dr. Lecter managed to bring him down first. Killed him in self defense.”

He looked up, smiling ruefully. “I’m a terrible friend to have when you need to relax.”

Frederick took Will's coat from him, guiding him by the arm into the kitchen as he shook his head rapidly. He sat the man down at a stool and poured him a glass of strong liquor, pressing it into Will's pliant hands. By the time Will was finished speaking, Frederick had eased back slightly, his hands on the counter.

"Will..." He was having trouble forming the right words. His heart was racing. He wished he knew was he could do.

"First, maybe you should get a shower, and some clean clothes? There's more where that came from." He pointed to the glass.

"Are you safe here?"

Will took the glass, thanking Frederick before drinking it in a few quick gulps. He let his head fall forward, pulling off his glasses and tossing them carelessly on the bar. “I’m sure I am. Suspect is dead, after all. He was determined to take Dr. Lecter down, didn’t stop until Lecter bashed his head in with a statue in his office.” Bringing his hands up, he massaged his temples firmly. “I’m...I’m sorry to bring this to you. I know you have plenty you’re dealing with right now, I just...didn’t know who else I could go to.”

Just outside he was certain he could hear the helpless wails of a wounded animal. Head jerking up, he looked towards the source of the sound. 

_It’s not there,_ he thought firmly, blinking hard and trying to clear his head. _You’re just tired. The stress is getting to you._

He turned back to Frederick, looking helpless. “I...do you mind if I stay for a bit? I could really use the companionship.”

Distressed, Frederick watched Will with a close eye. His hands ached to cover and surround Will, but he wasn't sure what was appropriate. The man had clearly been through a traumatic event and this usually required a wind-down period, as well as a time to reflect. But Will had come straight from the crime scene. He knew his concern showed on his face, and he hoped for now that would be enough until he knew what to say to ease Will’s mind.

"I can't imagine what you must be feeling." Frederick felt helpless, and was reminded of his inadequacy as a doctor and counsellor. Will wasn't insane: he was suffering from multiple moments of trauma that were beginning to accumulate into full on neuroses. Never mind the fact Will's work was putting him _directly_ in danger. Frederick felt absolutely horrified for him, and a flash of anger filled him as his thoughts turned to Jack Crawford.

"You can of course stay here for as long as you need. You tell me what you need" He knew his voice sounded a little desperate, and he averted his eyes as an embarrassed flush rose up his neck. He sat at the counter, reaching over and picking up Will's glasses. He wiped them with a small shammy and slid them back across the countertop.

"But before we begin to talk about this... I think you'll feel much better after getting some of that blood off of you. Honestly, it’s..." Frederick gestured again to him own neck, wondering if it was only him who found it disturbing. He caught Will’s eyes and shared a small smile. At least Will seemed to be in good humour, even if it was only the shock of his situation. It would be easier to come back from that.

Frederick stood to show Will upstairs, hand hovering near Will’s lower back in case the terror of his ordeal caused him to swoon or collapse. The man seemed to be a bit wobbly from the shock of it all.

Will reached up, touching his neck. “Shit, they’re going to make me get blood drawn for an exposure now,” he muttered. Standing on stiff legs, he grabbed his glasses and shoved them back on his face. The reality of the day was starting to leak back in. Flashes of Tobias Budge, covered in that sheet on Dr. Lecter’s office floor, stiff and prone. Flashes of that man with the cello neck down his throat. Flashes of Hannibal himself, the relief on his face at seeing Will alive. Had he been that close to _not_ being alive? Had the situation really gotten that out of control?

“I shouldn’t be this shocked about it all,” he murmured, following Frederick upstairs. “I used to be a homicide detective. Lately I’ve seen this stuff every day.”

When they arrived in the bathroom he looked around, taking in how clean and organized the room was. “Do you...um...shit, I’m sorry. Do you have something I can change into?”

Leading Will into the en-suite, Frederick remained silent, nodding at Will's words and gathering a towel and washcloth which he laid on the counter. At Will's question he nodded again "Yes, absolutely." And wandered back into the bedroom to rummage through his drawers. He piled a small stack of neatly folded clothes on the corner of the bed and returned to the bathroom to find Will sightlessly staring at the mirror.

He touched Will's arm and met his eyes in the reflection.

"Clothes on the bed. Leave yours outside the door and I'll throw them in the wash for you." He pulled his hand back and looked away.

"You're probably not hungry, but I just made dinner. I'll be waiting downstairs. Don't hesitate to ask for anything you need." That distressed tone had wandered back into his voice and he shut his mouth promptly, looking at Will’s hands. He paused a moment before leaving through the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and numbly trudging down the stairs. 

A small coil of fear was writhing in his stomach, and Frederick found he'd lost his appetite as well. He slid back onto a kitchen stool and pushing his glasses back onto his nose, blankly stared at the book on the counter. After a moment he pushed it away and pulled his nearly empty glass forwards, filling it three quarters and taking a prolonged sip. Panic, fear and worry settled around him as his thoughts attempted to organize themselves in his mind. He found it was easier to focus on the silence in the house. He waited patiently for the sound of a running shower and was surprised by the sense of relief and tenderness for Will when the muffled sound eventually reached him from upstairs.

A few moments later Will came down, now in slightly better shape. He had dressed in the clothes Frederick had provided for him, simple green draw-string sleep pants and a white undershirt. His hair was still fairly wet, slicked back with a few errant curls starting to spring free. His glasses had been forgotten upstairs. 

Sitting next to Frederick, he gave a weary smile. "Thanks. For everything. You're the only person I can go to who never tries to get something else out of me, and I'm really not up to being alone right now..."

He took the second whiskey Frederick had set out for him, taking a moment to appreciate his surroundings. The kitchen was clean and fairly modern looking, but the warm lights and smell of food filled it with life and comfort. He wondered how often Frederick had visitors. There was no mess, no sign of pets, just a book on the counter and a wine glass next to it. 

What a stark contrast to his own home, shabby and cluttered and covered in a thin layer of dog fur. 

Visibly relaxing as Will entered the room, Frederick topped up their glasses and nodded as Will spoke, feeling somewhat torn to see Will so vulnerable before him. Will had never dressed in a particularly imposing way before, but now he was even more undone. Frederick could clearly see the shape of his body under the loose-fitting clothing and something about it made Frederick feel a small amount of shame. Will needed a friend right now, and Frederick was it. But it still felt heavy to be trusted with the responsibility when Frederick himself felt rather alarmed by the turn of events.

“You absolutely do not have to be alone.” He spoke flatly, watching Will over his glass with an open expression.

“Are you alright? I mean, are you _really_ alright? Right now, I mean. _Here_.” Before they started talking about what happened (if they were going to talk about it at all), Frederick wanted to make sure Will felt safe. There were clean clothes, a shower, a bed, food and drink and company, and Frederick hoped he could offer anything else that might’ve been absent. Will seemed to be much better now than when he’d arrived; there was a flush to his skin that had been missing before. He’d even given Frederick a small smile. Under the circumstances (if Frederick were to think of how he might’ve reacted in Will’s position), the smile felt impossible and amazing and he let it fill him up.

Will stared out at nothing, absently running his finger over the cold marble of the bar top. “I’m...alright. I think I am,” he said slowly. He turned the events of the last few days over in his mind, wondering just how much he felt comfortable telling Frederick. He was surprised (and a little alarmed) to find that he was completely at ease with him. “I...I’m hearing things,” he said quietly. “Auditory hallucinations, as far as I can tell. Started as something caught in my fireplace, now I keep hearing this...it’s like an animal whining. And I saw Garrett Jacob Hobbs, in the theater when I was investigating the scene.”

Sitting in silence for a moment, Will seemed fully lost in his own thoughts. Out of nowhere he reached out, lightly touching Frederick’s wrist. His hands were warm, fingertips calloused from years of working on boat engines and fixing anything that needed it around the house. Entranced, he watched where their skin connected. It was clear he didn’t touch very often, and the simple act of his hand on another’s was giving him strength. 

After a beat the spell was broken, and he pulled his hand back to wrap around his wrist. “Dr. Lecter keeps giving me the okay to go back to the field though, so I suppose it’s not affecting me TOO badly.”

Entranced, Frederick watched Will’s hand with fascination. He felt frozen under Will’s gaze and fingers. The sense of tenderness and responsibility grew bigger, leaving him feeling pleased and troubled almost in equal measure. His heart was beating strangely. His own thumb twitched into action to move over Will’s palm, but he was too late as Will pulled his hand away. His chest began to ache as fondness and no small amount of loss washed over him.

At Will’s words, Frederick came out of his trance, a frown sliding into place. Hannibal Lecter was either very ignorant of Will’s situation, or more likely keeping his true thoughts from Will. Both options felt irresponsible and seemingly out of character for Hannibal. But he’d also said some disturbing things to Frederick when he and Mrs. Bloom had been invited for dinner, and that had caught Frederick off guard as well. The new information Will was sharing with him (which he’d obviously already shared with Hannibal, and combined with his own recent experience) made Frederick feel an uneasiness he was not accustomed to feeling when he thought on Dr. Lecter.

Already Frederick had felt trounced when Hannibal had demonstrated he knew of Frederick’s driving, and even more so when he’d actually supported and _encouraged_ him. Frederick didn’t fall prey to manipulation so easily, despite his vanity. Hannibal’s apparent indifference to Will’s mental state only served to make Frederick more suspicious. It wasn’t easy to miss what was happening to Will; that Hannibal would turn a blind eye was very incriminating.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about…” Frederick breathed, without thinking. Immediately he coloured, and sat straighter, pulling his hands in towards himself.

“Ah, sorry. I just mean. Well….” his eyes flashed over Will’s face apologetically, “I don’t agree with him. _At all._ ”

“No, that’s fine,” Will assured him. “I trust you, say whatever.” He let his head fall forward, hair starting to fluff up as it dried. “I think I’m just tired. Overworked. After this case is closed up I might take some time off, just...go off grid for a week or so.” After a moment he laughed ruefully. “I just want to be somewhere where Jack Crawford can’t find me, where Hannibal Lecter can’t pop up with fancy foods that I’ve never heard of. I want to fish, I want to walk my dogs, I want to read and I want to forget all of this.”

He smiled wearily, looking over at Frederick. “I’m afraid that’s all wishful thinking, though. I don’t think I could ever run far enough to get away from my own head.”

In his own chest Frederick’s heart felt like a small bird weakly beating its wings. Concern showed clear on his face as he leaned forward once more over the counter, putting a chin on his hand and nodding intently. Frederick also wished those things for Will. Also wished for him to be out from under Jack’s thumb and away from Hannibal’s intrusive gaze.

“Hallucinations… auditory, and visual. Will, besides just the horrors you see while working on the Ripper case, do you feel ill at all? It could be good for you to maybe be looked over-” He saw Will’s look and smiled wryly. “Not _probed_ , or examined, mentally. Just a physical checkup.” He looked thoughtfully into his glass before continuing.

“Is it just the hallucinations you’re trying to escape? Or is there something else bothering you?” He promised he wouldn’t talk about Will’s empathy. That in itself was something that bothered Will, but Frederick knew the man knew how to handle that aspect of himself. The hallucinations could be caused by any number of things, but even with his medical background Frederick couldn't make a diagnosis without more symptoms. Plus, the longer he thought about it, the more he realized there was so much he didn’t know about Will.

“I feel fine,” Will said, shrugging. After a moment he added, “As far as I can tell,” He had to admit to himself, he hadn’t paid much attention to his physical health lately. He never had much reason to, he lived a fairly healthy life and was quite active. He barely ever got the yearly colds and flus that went around. Lately though...he had to admit that he’d been feeling sluggish, rough around the edges. Sleep had been eluding him, and when he _did_ fall asleep he usually woke up a short time later after some horrible nightmare. 

He was starting to feel ragged, ripped apart. 

Looking up at Frederick, he gave what he imagined was a disarming smile. “I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep, is all. What have you been up to this week?” he asked, attempting to change the subject.

_Thinking about you_ , immediately came to Frederick’s mind. He hid his eyes from Will, fingers rubbing idly along the side of his glass. He thought again of the feeling of Will’s fingers, tentative on his hand. The touch had been shy, but warm, and Frederick felt a familiar sense of loss as he looked at Will’s hands across the counter.

“Things are going smoother at the hospital. Nearly back to normal, but Gideon is still being a smartass.” He pointedly did not mention that all Abel seemed to talk about was how he was going to sue Frederick over his “supposed” psychic driving. He had to maintain the facade, though. He was denying everything, and felt no small amount of disgrace in doing so.

He offered a smile to Will and filled their glasses again. It was a relief to hear that Will did not seem to be experiencing other manifestations of any illness or disease, but the presence of hallucinations continued to worry Frederick. The Will sitting before him, though shaken and tense from his brush with Tobias Budge, did not appear to be a man who would be suffering the neuroses that would present with visions. The fieldwork was taking it’s toll, no doubt, but Will seemed fairly together.

If it continued to be an issue, Frederick would encourage Will to get a brain scan or seek an opinion other than Doctor Lecter’s. He found in the short time since they’d become friendly, Frederick had grown very fond of Will. He’d spent an exorbitant amount of time worrying after the profiler, and Frederick knew when Will eventually left, his distress over the man’s circumstances would only increase.

“I actually… Well, I’ve been thinking about how pleasurable it’s been spending time with you.” He managed to meet Will’s eyes, desperately trying to keep his expression neutral and his tone even. He hoped his warring emotions weren’t showing on his face.

“I continue to be ashamed about how I treated you…I am honoured you feel you can trust me with these things. I worry after you constantly...” He took a steadying breath. “Honestly, I’m absolutely terrified for you. What happened today… If it were me I might’ve been on a plane halfway across the world by now.” Will had probably already concluded Frederick was a little jittery at the best of times.

The warm glow of the alcohol was beginning to spread throughout Frederick’s body. He felt loose and pliant. He was beginning to worry if the words coming out of his mouth were getting a tad emotional. But Will had opened himself up for Frederick, laid himself bare. It would be rude for Frederick to close up on him. Plus, he wasn’t Will’s doctor. They could both be open with one another. Feeling slightly goofy at the thought, Frederick spread his legs to put himself flush against the counter and leaned heavily on his hand, indulging in the affectionate feeling that was passing over him.

At Frederick’s admission Will colored slightly; he had to admit, he was really enjoying having someone to relax with. Someone with no expectations, no plans for him or his overactive mind. Despite their rocky start, Frederick seemed to be the only person who _honestly_ had his best interests in mind. 

“You have to let that go,” Will insisted, finishing the contents of his glass and reaching for the bottle to pour another. “I’m not incredibly easy to get along with, Frederick. I’m a tricky person to know, and I take a lot of effort even after I _have _let you in.” He took a long sip, the whiskey leaving a burning trail down his throat that spread throughout him to the very tips of his fingers and toes. “I don’t have this with anyone else. Whatever this is.” He chuckled, looking down.__

__After a moment his smile fell. “I um. Kissed Alana Bloom yesterday. And I felt nothing.” He looked up, eyes glassy. “I thought for so long that I wanted her, and then when there was finally a chance? There was nothing. No spark, no warmth. I didn’t get that feeling in my gut that made it feel _right_.”_ _

__He groaned, letting his head fall to the countertop. “Why am I telling you this? You have no desire to hear this. I’m a mess tonight.”_ _

__Frederick watched Will with wide eyes, face slumping further into his hand. There was an odd feeling coursing through him, but after a moment he only chuckled, offering Will a bright smile._ _

__“ _Will…_ ” he mock-chastised, giving Will a suffering look and taking another long sip from glass._ _

__“You are more put together than I would expect for someone who is living with everything you are currently living with. Please do not apologize for sharing. I’ve already told you what a gift it is.” Frederick hid his small smile in his glass, feeling a particular affection for Will growing in his chest._ _

__He considered Alana Bloom briefly, imagined her in his mind. She was really a wonderful person, intelligent and driven and kind. She was beautiful too, Frederick couldn’t help noting. He’d only been disappointed when he’d seen Will and her together in his office and she’d been rather off-handed with him. She’d refused eye contact pointedly. All business. Perhaps she’d been trying to decide how she felt about Will at the time?_ _

__Frederick couldn’t help feeling as though she’d missed out on what could have been a wonderful thing. Will was struggling, of course, and perhaps this made him seem like _work_ , like it would be a burden to be with him. But Frederick felt rather pleased at the idea of taking care of Will. How could they all not see that he needed it so badly? He’d even heard them _talk_ about it, but their true friendship remained just out of reach for Will. They could demand of him what they wanted and expected but for him to ask for a _little_ support regarding the negative effects of what _they_ were putting him through… Frederick seethed slightly, mind racing._ _

__Feeling a little grumpy, and noticeably drunk, Frederick somewhat unsteadily stood._ _

__“I _am_ sorry, though. If it is what you wanted, then it’s a shame it didn’t come to fruition.” He tried to resist the smug thought that he’d do a better job of being Will’s friend than they had. Leaning against the counter, he looked at his glass forlornly and felt the alcohol buzzing in his brain. _ _

__“That’s the thing though,” Will breathed, eyebrows knit as he looked at his hands. “I _thought_ it was what I wanted. Now...now I just don’t know. I don’t know _what_ I want. Someone, absolutely. I’d love to have a somebody. But...there’s a really limited number of people who can see me at my worst and not run screaming into the night.”_ _

__He glanced at Frederick, taking him in. He was definitely handsome, with those large eyes and strong, aquiline nose. Will was constantly impressed by how put together he looked. While he was sure there was some deeper reason for it, he couldn’t help but admire the fine suits and expensive haircuts his friend indulged in. How different than himself, always hiding in oversized button-ups and work-boots. They were night and day. Where Frederick was fastidious and organized, Will dropped things and left them where they lay. Frederick cooked for himself and drank expensive wine, even when home alone. Will lived off of fast food and his microwave, unless fishing had been kind to him on that particular day._ _

___I wonder_ , Will thought to himself, whiskey clouding his brain. _Are his dreams as organized as the rest of his life? Or does he see the monsters too, when he closes his eyes?__ _

__Will stood as well, turning and wandering out of the kitchen. “Come on. Couch,” he insisted, leading the way despite having a very limited knowledge of Frederick’s house._ _

__Frederick glanced woefully at dinner, now cooled on the stove. The alcohol was taking it’s toll and he was feeling very warmed and contented and wondered if maybe he ought to eat before he did something foolish. But it didn’t take much for Will to convince him, with the way he looked over his shoulder at Frederick as he confidently left to wander the house. Delighting in their building camaraderie, Frederick obeyed, shadowing Will into the living room._ _

__He took a moment to feel a little embarrassed about the state of his home. It was clean and precise and orderly and had zero of Frederick’s own taste infused into it. There were hints here and there, but he hadn’t bothered to put any love into the place, instead piling favourite possessions into his office at work where they would do well to make him feel at peace. His kitchen was his only true place of comfort in the house, besides the bedroom and the en-suite._ _

__Frederick watched from a distance as Will stood facing away, seeming to take in the room. He felt somewhat awkward, unsure of what to do or say as he watched the other man taking in the room. He wondered vaguely if he should’ve grabbed the bottle and glasses from the kitchen._ _

__Will surveyed the room, eyebrows knit. What would he think if he’d seen the room without knowing the man who lived there? He’d assume, of course, that this wasn’t someone who spent much time at home. Probably someone always in a board room, surrounded by lackeys. What threw him was the lack of passion, the lack of warmth. It was a stark contrast to what he actually knew about Frederick. Ever since they’d shared dinner at the Mexican place he found him to be quite warm. It had thrown him off at first; he’d been so determined to dislike the Dr. Chilton he’d met at the Institute, even more so when Frederick began persistently calling him to schedule a meeting. It was rare that Will Graham was wrong about someone...but oh, how wrong he’d been._ _

__He turned, standing in silence as he studied the man standing across the room. There was something between them. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to face how much it _terrified_ him, but it was definitely there. It was an ease that he’d never felt around anyone else. Frederick had turned out to be the person he didn’t have to explain himself to, the man he could sit in a comfortable silence with as they pondered their own separate thoughts._ _

__Frederick Chilton had been the thought in his head when his lips met Alana Bloom’s._ _

__The guilt he felt over it was unimaginable. Alana wasn’t there for him to experiment with, she was more than a Litmus test for his sexuality and feelings towards someone else. She was brilliant; poised, intellectual and full of wit. He had been so sure he wanted her._ _

__Swallowing hard, he flopped onto the couch. “Come. Sit.”_ _

__Feeling oddly nervous, Frederick did as he was told, sliding onto the couch and sinking down with his hands resting on his knees. He huffed gently, frowning at the room._ _

__“Yes, I know. Not much going on in here. I haven’t been in this place that long… Not that thats an excuse. This place really needs something.” He looked at Will. “Pizzazz?” He caught Will’s eye and chuckled. Who was Frederick kidding? “Pizzazz” was so far a description from him it was laughable._ _

__“It just doesn’t feel like home yet… In fact, you’re my first guest!” His smile grew. He did not tell Will he’d been living in the house for almost a year already. Somehow Will’s presence felt like a christening._ _

__After a moment of grinning at Will he looked down at his hands, trying to stopper the seemingly neverending stream of tender feelings that were pouring out of him. It made him happy to see Will so comfortable and relaxed, especially after he’d shown up bleeding and frazzled. After he’d been _attacked_. Seeing Will splayed casually over the couch in Frederick’s own slightly too-large clothes, looking utterly at-home filled Frederick with delight._ _

__He took a moment to look at Will’s hands, staring at the red marks that had been stung into the flesh by wire. His smile disappeared and he moved without thinking, reaching to slide his hand over Will’s and turn it palm up. He made an irritated noise._ _

__“That looks like it hurts…” Frederick murmured, wondering if maybe a bit of hydrocortisone would help heal the small slices. He had a very extensive first aid kid in the bathroom upstairs, but there wouldn’t be much to do here besides apply ointment. He sighed, feeling a little helpless. Here Frederick had been, lounging about in the kitchen with wine and a book and Will had been avoiding death. His thumb rubbed somewhat possessively over Will’s palm._ _

__Will watched as Frederick touched him, a bemused smile on his face. “I think it looks worse than it feels.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Honestly I think I’m too drunk to feel it right now. The hell is that whiskey? It’s incredible.” When Frederick went to pull away Will quickly grabbed his hand, pulling it closer to him. He turned it this way and that, as if examining it._ _

__“You’re so...smooth,” he mused. “My hands look like hell compared to yours.” Without letting go of Frederick’s hand he held up his other, displaying a myriad of scars. “Last summer I jabbed a fishing hook through my thumb, that was pretty bad.”_ _

__Frederick’s eyes widened at that, feeling entirely unfazed by Will’s hand running over his own. It was warm, and looked right. He liked the sound of their skin rasping together. But Will was right, the whiskey had done a number for sure. Frederick couldn’t seem to push back the pleased smile that continued to spread across his face._ _

__“You live a dangerous life,” Frederick murmured into the space between them, sporting a dopey grin. “There’s guns and cello wire and murder-things and time in the woods. You work with your hands, you _fix_ things. I can’t do those things. You don’t mind getting dirty. You seem to make the most of life. You don’t shield yourself from physical experience.” Frederick felt like he was prattling on but the whiskey seemed to be working without his approval and he carried on in a low voice._ _

__“I, on the other hand, file paperwork. An alarming amount of paperwork. And I listen to patients, and I speak to patients, and I am ridiculed, _constantly_ , by patients. But all the damage is psychological, not physical. I’m as vulnerable as a baby lamb.” He very nearly giggled. Allowing the warm feeling to settle over him, he no longer felt awkward or embarrassed about his sparse room: it had completely faded away. All that mattered was the way Will’s eyes lit up when the warm light caught them in just the right way. The way their hands continued to idly move against one another. It was all a bit overwhelming._ _

__With a huff, he leaned his head back into the couch and closed his eyes, trying to focus somewhat. He was supposed to be here for Will. The man didn’t need to listen to him jabbering about murder-y things._ _

__“That whiskey.” He stated flatly, rolling his head to the side to look at Will through narrowed eyes. Perhaps it was time to go to bed._ _

__Will laughed, letting his head fall back as well. “ _Right?_ ” He let his head roll to face Frederick’s, eyes sparkling. “I think I’m avoiding my feelings about today.” He grinned, reaching up and ruffling Frederick’s hair. With a snicker he pulled his hand back, surveying the damage._ _

__Frederick hissed, batting Will’s hand away. But when he looked up at Will again through his lashes he was grinning like an idiot. He gave the man an unconvincing look of annoyance._ _

__“You are. And you’re being a _troublemaker_.” Frederick didn’t want to ruin the mood by encouraging Will to linger on the day’s events, even though it would eventually become necessary. “But honestly it’s time for bed. You need to sleep.” He sighed and stretched before unsteadily getting to his feet. Will’s only response was an undignified whine, turning to a laugh as Frederick tugged him off of the couch._ _

__“Come on, you’re sleeping upstairs.” He pulled Will’s hand and lead the man to the stairs. Gracelessly they climbed while holding onto one another, laughing foolishly about nothing in particular. Frederick’s mind buzzed happily as they meandered into his bedroom once again. He paused, noticing Will’s pile of bloody clothing on the floor and made an annoyed sound._ _

__“Hmmm, I’ve got to go throw those in the wash…” He left Will to go collect the macabre garments, wrapping them awkwardly in a towel._ _

__“Don’t worry about it,” Will hummed with a yawn, shrugging. “Just. Put them aside. I’ll probably toss them, if I’m being honest.” He looked around, somehow managing to register the bedroom and how much cozier it was than the rest of the house._ _

__“You’re sleeping in here. I’m not having my recently-almost-murdered guest sleep on the couch.” Frederick finally turned to stare at Will, who looked very contented and relaxed in Frederick’s clothing. He liked the way the pants didn’t fit. Will looked very small with the clothes hanging off of him. The thought striking him as somehow funny, Frederick nearly laughed, but instead settled for a fond smile._ _

__“What else can I get you? Do you want some water?” Frederick didn’t want their fantastic night to be ruined for Will by waking up in a strange bed with a pounding headache._ _

__Will wasted no time in crawling into the bed, burrowing under the covers. “Mm. No thanks,” he said sleepily. “I’m fine. You’re not sleeping on the couch, are you?” Once Frederick assured him he wouldn’t he nodded, letting his eyes flutter shut._ _

__“It’s nice, having a friend. New.” He gave another yawn, jaw cracking. “Night, Frederick.”_ _

__It appeared as though Will had drifted off as soon as his head had hit the pillow and Frederick stood in stunned silence for a moment, impressed. Feeling a pleasant warmth, he quietly stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. He filled up a glass he normally kept for himself with water and brought it out to place on the nightstand. Will was snoring quietly, inelegantly stretched out under the covers. His hair curled against the pillow and Frederick ached to reach out and smooth it back for him. The feeling came and went without much thought but he knew he would think on it again in the morning._ _

__He stood on the edge of indecision, feeling his heart beat oddly against his chest as he imagined sliding into the bed next to Will. He’d sleep on top of the covers, he’d put a proper distance between them, he'd behave… His mind dully tried to make it work but reason won out in the end and he stepped back. He turned out the light and headed down the stairs, grabbing a pillow from the guest bedroom on his way down. It would do to put more space between them, Frederick mused, feeling heady from the alcohol. His thoughts continued to return to the feeling of Will's hand on his own, and the small space that had begun to disappear between them as they'd sat on the couch. His stomach fluttered with the thrill he'd felt at their brief contact. It wouldn't do to sleep upstairs; he'd inevitably find reasons to creep across the hall, and Frederick needed time to reflect._ _

__He packed up dinner to enjoy the following day, turned off all the lights, and flopped onto the couch. It was still warm beneath him and drunkenly he thought he could still smell Will, an earthy aroma mixed with something oddly sweet. He took a moment to fluff up the pillow before his head fell heavily against it, sleep creeping in fast. He tried to resist, wanting a few more precious moments to mull over the events of the night but his eyes burned and he ached with the effort to stay awake. Resolved to ponder over Will Graham much more the following morning, Frederick let the sweet oblivion of sleep take him and he slipped into a comfortable darkness._ _


	4. Chapter 4

Twilight sang along the edge of his vision, heating his arms and neck as Frederick awakened from a brief nap. The full window in his front living room was on fire with the sunset and he slunk deeper into the cushions, heady on the soothing feeling of a satisfying nap. He was pleased to have gotten some rest. He’d started by relaxing on the couch with a book and a glass of wine, but his thoughts had soon turned to Will Graham. All the unease and guilt that had been building up in Frederick concerning the murders and the Chesapeake Ripper had easily melted away, and feeling peaceful and contented, he had soon dozed off.

Rubbing his eyes in the half-light, Frederick sighed and tried to recall the vision of Will in his dream. The man was peaceful, standing confidently in front of a group of students who clung eagerly to his every word. He was shy, but engaging, and Frederick felt as though Will and himself were connected by an invisible cord. A small string of what felt like fishing wire appeared to shimmer in the dimness and he felt its teasing tug against his heart. He tested the bond lightly and felt Will’s answering vibration.

He liked the light in Will’s eyes, the playful smirk the teacher didn’t quite hide as he spied Frederick waiting but dutifully ignored him. Frederick felt a small smile forming, tenderness blossoming in his chest as he took a tentative step into the room, the students melting away and darkness closing in but for the glow of a small, warm light above Will. The room shifted: Will was leaning against the desk, facing Frederick with crossed arms and a soft smile. Frederick stepped closer, feeling the unseen wire pulling and tugging him towards Will Graham. 

In a second, darkness filled the room and cold air began to surround him. Frederick felt the tension of the line disappear as though it’d been abruptly severed and he stumbled back unsteadily. An eerie light returned, illuminating Will, whose face was hidden; his chin against his chest, his arms hanging at his sides. Inky blackness seemed to swirl around the man, who appeared to be asleep, or _dead_ , and Frederick filled with panic. _Its not right_ , he spoke noiselessly into the dark room.

Doctor Lecter appeared behind Will like a great shadow, impossibly tall, his mouth a great empty _maw_ curled into a terrifying grin. Frederick couldn’t see his eyes for the blackness but they seemed to bore into him nonetheless. Inky quills emerged from Hannibal’s head and neck and descended down around both of their bodies. The great claws of his hands extended and stretched and where they touched Will they left sticky black splotches. Will didn’t stir, seemingly unconscious though his chest was heaving and his breath was visible where puffs of air escaped into the cold room through parted lips. To Frederick it seemed as though Hannibal was slowly _becoming_ one with the smaller man, encircling him in a cruel parody of a lover’s embrace. The creature was looking at him again, ruffling its feathers, and in his own chest Frederick felt the unfamiliar rumble of Hannibal’s eminent laughter.

He opened his eyes to his own dour living room, white-washed and empty, and felt chilled.

His cellphone was vibrating gently on the table, and glad for the distraction Frederick answered it hastily.

"Hello, Doctor Chilton speaking."

Will’s voice came over the line, hushed and confused as he spoke. “F-Frederick?”

Laid out on his couch in Wolf Trap was a terrified and feverish Will Graham. It had been around mid-afternoon that he’d begun to feel poorly, something like an itch starting at the back of his throat. Soon sweat prickled at his temples and his body was engulfed in _heat_ , licking at his limbs and seeping into the tissue of his skin. He could feel the insistent burn engulfing his heart, racing up his spinal cord until his entire mind was aflame.

_Maybe this is how I die_ , he mused, eyes heavy lidded as he stared into the shadows. _Burning alive. Alone._

That was around when the hallucinations had started. Monstrous, towering creatures with antlers and long, probing fingers, looming over him. Abigail Hobbs, pale faced and bleeding, calling him “dad” and reaching out. He could swear that just outside of his door he heard the huff of something large and hulking and covered in thick, black feathers. Added to the horror of it all was the wind outside, howling and fierce and beating against his windows. The chill of falling snow was creeping into the old house, making the dark somehow even _darker_. 

Will wasn’t entirely sure how the phone got into his hand, or how Frederick’s number had been punched in. Frederick’s voice was sweet relief, washing over his clammy skin. “Frederick?” he repeated, voice almost a gasp. 

Frederick’s brows knit together as he pulled the phone away to glance briefly at the screen before bringing it back to his ear.

"… _Will_?” There was a sort of silence on the other end but Frederick could hear the quiet whimpers of Will’s dogs whining in the background, coupled with Will’s uneven breathing. 

"Will!" Frederick spoke a little more forcefully, panic starting to creep in. He felt a great shadow growing in the room as the last light from the sun disappeared. Something was clearly wrong.

“Will, what’s happening? Are you alright?” Images of Will frazzled and bloody on his doorstep flooded back and he found himself on his feet immediately, pacing tight circles on the carpet.

Will curled up on the couch, hiding his face against his bony knees. He was shaking, teeth clattering together. In the silence of the room it sounded thunderous, he imagined he was nearly deafening Frederick on the other end of the call. His head jerked up at a wet feeling in his hand, swallowing hard when he saw it was simply Winston, eying him with concern.

“Frederick,” he breathed again, eyes heavy lidded. “Did...did I call you? Or did you call me?” He could barely remember the beginning of the conversation, had completely lost the confusion and worry in his friends voice as he’d answered.

Real panic filling him, Frederick was already slipping on his shoes with some difficulty.

“You called me.” He stated flatly, mind else wear as he tried to remember where Will lived. Will had described the route once, but Frederick had yet to visit. He hoped he could find it without too much trouble.

“Are you at home?” He asked, somewhat breathless as he struggled to tug on his boots with one hand. There was absolutely no doubt Will was not himself. He sounded confused, lost. He knew what a drunk Will sounded like, and this wasn’t it.

Will looked up, gasping as Abigail stood in front of him. She was smiling, holding her finger to her lips. _Shhh. Don’t worry Will. It’s just us._ After a beat she changed, and instead he saw a dirty, soil covered corps with mushrooms growing from empty eye sockets. He could hear voices, voices that sounded like Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller, whispering words he couldn’t quite make out.

Next to him Beverly Katz leaned in, face stern. “You’re hallucinating,” she said firmly. Pull yourself together, Will.”

“Something...something isn’t right,” Will told her, voice panicked. “My brain...my brain feels loose. I feel like I’m fading.” He managed to stand on shaking feet, taking a tentative step. When the first worked he attempted another. Knees buckling, he fell to the floor with a loud _thud_ , phone clattering just out of reach. “F-Frederick…” he stammered, eyes glazed.

Swearing loudly, Frederick grabbed the keys from the counter and rushed into the snow with his coat and scarf in one arm. The drive to Wolf Trap seemed infinitely long as Frederick sped through the snow, watching the flakes as they parted for him, creating an odd celestial tunnel that made him feel as if he were travelling at warp speed. Despite this, every second of answering silence on the line as Frederick murmured words into the phone wedged against his shoulder felt like an eternity. He’d heard Will’s voice, confused, speaking, but not to him. Then the crash on the other end of the line and then the silence. Will’s phone was still on, but there was no response from the other man. Frederick heard only the occasional _tickticktick_ of the dog’s nails on the hardwood.

Frederick’s mind was filled with grisly images that only got worse and worse as he drove. He imagined blood everywhere, Will an odd mangled lump on the floor. Frederick wondered what he would find, what he would _do_. He couldn’t lose Will.

Finally, as he pulled into the long driveway he hoped lead to Will’s house, he heard the answering barks and whines through Will’s phone and knew he was in the right place. He parked behind Will’s car and stumbled out into the snow. The weather was much worse here than in the city, and the driveway hadn’t been ploughed. Snow rose up under his slacks and into his boots as Frederick hastily trudged through the yard, clamouring loudly up onto the porch and almost slipping on the steps.

He paused a moment at the door before pushing inside. There was no need to knock, of this he was fairly certain. The dogs rushed him, and he pushed them back as best he could, closing the door and falling against it as they crowded him, all wet noses and wagging tails. Frederick peered into the dim room. There was only one light on a small table to his left. To his right he saw a bed in what appeared to be a bedroom doubling as a living room as well as an entranceway. Pushing further into the room, Frederick caught sight of Will’s naked feet sticking out from behind the couch and as he rounded the coffee table he saw Will spread out on his stomach, hand lax but reaching towards his lit phone a couple of feet away. Frederick looked down at his own phone and ended the call.

As he knelt beside the other man a stroke of fear filled him. Will seemed _awfully_ still. But as Frederick slipped a hand under Will’s neck and pulled him into his lap, he _felt_ him. He was shivering just slightly, his ragged t-shirt soaked through and sticking to him. His skin was _burning_.

"Will… _Hey_.” Frederick grasped his chin and turned Will’s face towards him. 

Will was still for a moment before giving a full body shudder, the movement shaking him right to his toes. A pathetic sort of whine tore itself from the back of his throat. He was so hot, so fucking _hot_ , but he couldn’t stop shivering. And now he could hear Frederick, concerned and calling to him. What sort of sick hallucination was this? What deep, buried feelings was he going to be faced with now?

Sliding his eyes open, he moaned at the concerned face hovering above him. Frederick didn’t _look_ like a hallucination...he looked steady and solid, cheeks rosy from the chilled air outside. He could feel a firm hand on his chin, and for the first time in hours he felt like he had an anchor. This was real, this existed. This was not a wisp, something he could reach through no matter how real it looked.

Reaching up with a trembling hand, Will tangled his fingers lightly in Frederick’s hair. “You’re here,” he said dazedly, letting the soft brunette strands curl and slip around his fingers. “You’re...real?”

Pain and sadness washed through Frederick and he leaned down to press his forehead against Will’s. Relief was starting to filter through. Will was _alive_ , first of all. He also seemed to be remarkably devoid of injury, though he was insanely sweaty and shaking in Frederick’s arms. His skin was _hot_ , and Frederick pulled back to give him a proper look over.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me…” He murmured, pushing the hair off Will’s forehead and looking into his eyes. Will’s gaze was unfocused, his fingers weak in Frederick’s hair. After a moment of checking Will over, Frederick slid an arm under Wills shoulders and lifted him, trying to get him to sit up a little.

“Hey, come on, lets get up for a minute, okay?” His voice was gentle as he tried to get Will to use his legs, but his knees just seemed to wobble unsteadily. Groaning with the exertion, Frederick got Will’s arm over his shoulder and heaved the man up where he continued to lean heavily on Frederick. They took small steps to the bed where Frederick oriented them properly before they half-fell onto the mattress. Frederick turned Will’s face towards him again, trying to meet his gaze.

“Hey… what’s going on? What happened?” He tugged at his scarf and coat with his free hand.

Will was still fairly disoriented, but the appearance of a real live person had helped him focus. “I... I don’t really now,” he said, voice weary. He no longer sounded confused, no longer sounded as if he were terrified of every shadow in the room. “I started to feel sick earlier. Figured it was a flu coming on so I ignored it. Then I started...seeing things?” His eyes flickered around the room, relief washing over his face at the absence of monsters to loom over them.

He reached out, tentatively taking Frederick’s hand. He gave a gentle squeeze, once more reassuring himself of the real, solid presence of the man next to him. “Did I...I called you, didn’t I?” he asked, trying to work things out for himself. “How did you find the house?”

Soothed by the sound of Will’s cognizant voice, Frederick sighed, watching Will’s fingers moving over his own as the worry began to ease back. “You told me once. I just tried to remember. I think I’m very lucky to have found you.” His voice was quiet and weak in the room. He wrapped an arm around Will and pulled the man in close, pressing his face into Will’s hair and breathing deeply. Struggling to fight the tiny tears that were threatening at the edge of his vision, Frederick hummed softly and rubbed Will’s arm. He should have done something before. It had been so clear, after the attack, that Will hadn’t been well.

“I should probably go get you some water. You’re definitely dehydrated.” Frederick was determined to get to the root cause of Will’s hallucinations, but for now it was important for the man to recover. Whatever had happened had taken a lot out of him. Will was boneless against him.

As Frederick pulled him close Will felt his body go limp, every muscle draining. It was so long since he’d last been held like this. A real, proper hug, one that soothed your fears and left you feeling like all your problems weren’t so bad after all. He draped an arm over Frederick, unable to fight the urge to snuggle into him. He smelled so good, his faded cologne clean and sharp and sweet. It grounded him. All at once he felt rooted, real and solid and _alive_. 

“I would really love some help into the bathroom, I think splashing water on my skin would be the best feeling in the world right now.” He looked up, smiling wearily. Frederick was so close, he felt like he should be more uncomfortable at the lack of space between them. Instead he felt supported, secure. 

“Bathroom is just down that hall next to the kitchen. I should be able to walk, just..stay close?” he asked, voice soft.

Frederick nodded, a determined look coming over his face as he got them both to their feet. Despite Will’s words, he pulled the other man tight to his side as they walked together down the hall one step at a time. Once inside Frederick made sure Will had a steady hold on the porcelain sink before he let go and stepped back. He shrugged out of his coat and threw it into the hall, and rolling up his sleeves he approached Will again.

“How do you feel now?” He placed a hand against Will’s forehead. The man was still much warmer than normal, but the fact that he was coherent was a good sign. Reassured, Frederick slumped against the tub, his arms falling to his sides as he leaned against the cool tiles of the wall.

“Better,” Will breathed, risking a glance into the mirror. He looked like absolute hell. His skin was clammy and pale and seemed to fit poorly over his frame. Round, glassy eyes peered from under thick lashes, still darting around a bit too quickly. How had he managed to drench himself in sweat on a night as cold as this? 

“Still a little flushed, a little weak maybe. But able to stand on my own, which is progress.”

Turning the faucet on, he cupped his hands under the stream. The first handful of water went to his lips, greedily gulping down mouthful after mouthful. It slid down his throat, cool and refreshing. Encouraged, he gathered another handful before splashing it over his face. The water weighed down his curls, sliding past his cheeks in rivulets to drip off of his jaw. He couldn’t fight the gasp that escaped his lips. Such a simple act felt so incredibly important, cooling him immediately. His shirt was drenched and sticking to his skin, but now it was a relief rather than a burden.

Once he felt sufficiently hydrated he turned, looking vulnerable. “Listen, Frederick...I can’t thank you enough for coming. I can’t say I fully remember all the events leading up to it, but you being here means a lot to me.” He grabbed a towel, grateful for the way it hid his face as he dried his hair into fluffy curls. Frederick came to stand again by the mirror, watching Will in the reflection.

“You might’ve done the same for me. You’ve shown me a remarkable amount of kindness since we've first met. A second chance, too. I worry about you…” _If only you knew how much_. His gaze turned to his own reflection, and he noticed that the panic had left his face looking a little gaunt, eyes bruised. Will’s own complexion was much worse, the effects of his fever evident; cheeks that appeared windburnt and lips that were too pale from the cold. Frederick wasn’t sure how long Will had been like this before he’d called but the drive itself to Wolf Trap was a good forty minutes with speeding. Will had been on the floor that whole time. No wonder he was shaking.

Curious, Frederick grabbed Will's chin between a thumb and forefinger and turned the man's face to get a good look. Will's eyes were red and wet-looking. His stubble looked a little raw, as though he'd been rubbing it excessively. The droplets of water dripping from Will's hair caught his attention as they dropped onto his nose and down his neck. "You look a little worse for wear. I’m worried about how long you were like that before I got here…” He murmured quietly into the space between them.

Will coloured visibly, smiling even as his eyes sought refuge by looking down. Frederick’s hand was so warm, so affectionate. He wanted to commit this feeling to memory. Between them there were only a few sparse inches, and Will could feel the heat radiating off of his own body. 

“I rarely shave on my days off,” he explained, swallowing hard. “I spent the day giving the dogs baths, so I really never got around to dressing properly either.” He looked up, daring to make eye contact. “But let’s be honest, I always look shaggy next to you.”

It had been a hard admission, trying to stick to his tongue in one last desperate bid to keep his walls and boundaries up. But with that the last was down. Frederick knew so much about him at this point, had borne so much during their short friendship. Now all Will could do was hope he hadn't made a terrible gamble. 

"Not true." Frederick said without a hint of sarcasm. He was captivated by the way water was pooling on Will's upper lip. Catching himself, he dropped his hand and stepped back a bit.

"I'm known to be- what's the word? Stuffy?" He laughed.

"I don't think wearing the evidence of a day's efforts are a bad thing. You've certainly accomplished more than I have. You look..." Frederick's stomach gave a small flip. "You look fine." _Delicious_... A very low voice hissed in the back of his mind. He looked away, feeling guilty for the lewd thoughts his brain supplied, especially considering the circumstances that had brought Frederick here.

Will reached forward, quickly taking the hand Frederick had just dropped. "You're not," he said softly, voice barely a breath. "Not at all." 

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if it was nerves or the fever taking hold. His Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed, gently tugging Frederick closer. There was barely a foot between them now, the scent of clean, warm skin invading his senses. 

"Frederick..."

Frederick was sure he could hear his heartbeat, unsteady and deafening in the small bathroom. He felt Will's where their hands were joined. Nervously he interlocked their fingers and looked down as he rubbed his thumb over the palm of Will's hand.

"You seem to be doing well." He looked back up at Will's face, staring at parted lips.

"I should go home... Shouldn't I?" He didn't wait for an answer. His hand left Will's, skimming up a pale arm, across a bared collarbone and up into the hair at the back of Will's neck. Shaking slightly, his thumb ran over the stubble along the man's jaw and he watched Will's face intently, closing the space between them in small increments.

Will seemed to lean into the touch, and feeling encouraged, Frederick closed the space between them fully, tilting his head and pressing a dry kiss to the corner of Will's mouth. The kiss was chaste, his lips gentle as a thumb moving down the column of Will's neck.

All of the confusion of the past few days, everything that was missing in Alana's kiss, the tension and fear and stress...Will found the answers to all of it in Frederick's lips. He was so warm, and so close. As their mouths moved confidently together, he was immediately blown away by the almost choreographed way they met. There was no awkward jumble, no fight for dominance. Just a warm mouth against his, and long fingers stroking his skin. 

When Frederick pulled away Will let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He slowly opened his eyes, a lifetime of vulnerability reflected there. "Frederick...I..." He didn't know what to say. Maybe there wasn't anything to be said. Instead he once more closed the gap between them, lips again molding against a willing mouth. He slid a strong arm around Frederick's back, easing him closer. 

Doubt melting away, Frederick moaned throatily as he eased Will against the sink, hands sliding down to rest against narrow hips. His mouth moved slowly over Will's, chastely pulling at a bottom lip before swiping at is coyly with his tongue.

There was still a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, that something about this was exploitive of Will's current state. He'd been unconscious thirty minutes ago. Perhaps this wasn't the best time for them to indulge the obvious need that had been building between them. Will's hands insistently moving over Frederick's back suggested otherwise, but Frederick had to be sure. He didnt want to ruin what they'd been building just because he’d misread the situation.

He eased back, and Will's lips followed, but he put a steadying hand against the man’s chest as he pressed their foreheads together. He looked down breathlessly to see their hips slotted snuggly together and another wave of desire washed over him. With a ragged sigh he closed his eyes, running his hand over Will's stomach.

"Is this alright...?" He whispered into the space between them. "I need to make sure this is what you want. I found you in dire straights less than an hour ago. If you're not feeling like yourself..." Frederick hoped the pain and desperation in his voice wasn't as obvious to Will as it was to him. He was ready to shut the whole thing down if it wasn't what Will wanted but it was absolutely the _last_ thing Frederick wanted to have to do. Will's lips were sweet and soft, his embrace welcoming, his hips solid against Frederick's. He felt he might not survive Will pulling away, so great was the relief at their long-awaited embrace.

Will 's expression was open; for the first time in his life he was easy to read. With steady hands sliding to the small of Frederick's back, Will met his eyes. "I want this. I do. You...you're what was missing the other day, you're what was in my head while I was kissing Alana. For so long I thought I wanted someone like her...but I need someone like you. I want someone like you." He looked down, closing his eyes. “I didn’t really get it at first, it’s been a long time since I was with another man. But you’re so...I don’t know. You’re something really _good_ , and it’s something that amazes me every single moment that I’m with you.”

Leaning in, Will teased him by just barely brushing their lips together. The flush of arousal played high in his cheeks, and paired with the flush of fever it gave him a healthy pink colour. Their bodies fit so _perfectly_ together. Despite the height difference their hips were just matched up, a thought that sent heat shooting through Will’s spine. He wrapped his arms tight around Frederick, pulling him somehow even closer and nuzzling a kiss into his jaw. 

“Is this what _you_ want?” he asked, hoping the self-doubt wasn’t evident in his voice. He knew he wanted Frederick, but what if Frederick didn’t want him? What if he didn’t want the trouble of Will’s sickness and hallucinations?

Will's praise and encouragement was all it took and Frederick's hesitation disappeared in an instant. With a groan he covered Will's mouth with his own, pressing into Will with his hips. He held Will’s face with his hands, tongue teasing into his mouth as he whined helplessly.

“I want you _so_ much. You’re _all_ I want.” He pressed light kisses all over Will’s face, lingering on his temple, his cheeks and his jaw as his hands restlessly moved down under the hem of Will’s shirt. 

“You’re all I think about,” he admitted timidly, pressing his nose against Will’s before tipping his face and capturing the man’s lips again.

Will could hardly makes sense of his feelings, there was so much _emotion_ between them. It filled the small bathroom, heating their skin and driving them even closer. A sweet, comfortable lust had settled in his lower stomach. He wanted everything Frederick was willing to give him; he wanted to kiss him, to taste him. He wanted to lay him out on the bed and find every sweet spot that made him moan and writhe in pleasure. For someone who spent so much time ducking other people’s emotions, he was desperate to feel everything Frederick felt. Every iota of pleasure, every kiss and touch and embrace.

Beyond that, welling up in the cavernous expanse behind his ribcage, he felt _fond_ of Frederick. It was more than lust. It was warmth, a strong desire to take away all the pain and self-consciousness and replace them with happier things.

Will brought his hands up, large and calloused from years of hard work, to cup Frederick’s face. A soft moan welled up from the back of his throat as he kissed him again, nipping softly at a plush bottom lip. He tasted so sweet, just as perfect as he’d imagined. Pulling away, he managed a wry smile. 

“I’ve thought of you non-stop, Frederick. Since that night at the restaurant, there hasn’t been one night where I could clear you out of my mind.”

Frederick had to admit to himself it’d been their first day together that his feelings for Will had shifted. He’d been callous and had bullied Will, and he’d been just like the rest of them. To watch the way Will was being so obviously used had been the turning point. Frederick had found he could relate very much and spent hours wondering why he’d behaved so poorly. He remembered acutely the _need_ to make Will see the way Frederick _could_ be. It had been so easy to be himself around Will that even other’s had noticed the change in his behaviour.

Frederick managed to keep Will’s gaze, pushing forward to grin against his lips. His hands trembled as they moved under Will’s shirt and spread across his back. Holding Will now, feeling the exposed skin, the jut of his hips, the rasp of his stubble; it felt like the first time. Frederick was nervous and anxious, wanting to take everything but trying to be patient. It was a war with his body, which reacted and moved without his permission. A glance at Will to see him biting his lip or sighing with closed eyes or reaching for him with eager hands… every small action by the other man seemed so novel and meaningful that Frederick’s mind worked in overdrive. Every tender touch had Frederick’s nerves singing and he responded to the contact expressively, moaning and sighing against Will’s lips.

“I could lose myself in you…” Frederick began to murmur praises as he explored Will’s neck. He dragged his teeth gently under Will’s jaw, tasting the sweat on his skin as he began to focus his attention on a pale throat.

“I can’t begin to tell you… I can’t _admit_ … what you’ve been doing to me all this time…” He felt a sort of freedom, sharing his private thoughts against Will’s heated skin.

Will’s breath hitched in his throat, head falling back to allow Frederick more space to work. “Really?” he rasped, lips quirking up at the corners. “Because I’d _love_ to hear it, actually…” His hands slid up Frederick’s sides, getting handfuls of his shirt and tugging until it came untucked. Once the hem was freed of his waistband he focused on unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt. Nothing further, just enough to allow him a glimpse of the skin underneath.

“Because I know what you’ve been doing to me,” he murmured, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the mirror. “I know how it feels to stay up all night thinking about you, thinking about your lips and your eyes and your body. And I know what it’s like to want to invite you into bed, but to be drunk and scared of coming on too strong.” His hands continued to touch and feel and explore, slipping under Frederick’s shirt to slide along his sides.

Frederick moaned openly at Will’s words, remembered with clarity the moment he’d decided to leave Will alone in his bed. _In his bed_ , when he’d ached so badly just to slide in beside him.

After a moment Will tilted Frederick’s chin up, once more claiming his mouth in a heated kiss. He was much more aggressive this time, hungrily licking into his mouth, nipping and sucking and kissing with a hunger he hadn’t felt in a while.

Will in control: Will guiding his body and exposing him turned on a light in a dark part of Frederick’s mind he had never explored. He loved the possessive way Will’s lips captured his own, loved the hands tugging and pulling at his shirt. The way Will seemed to unhinge and just _take_ made Frederick weak at the knees, and he crowded Will further against the sink in the event he _did_ find himself overwhelmed. 

Tentatively he pulled at Will’s shirt, wanting to see him, wanting to see their skin sliding together. He broke away only long enough to strip the damp cotton from Will’s skin, ruffling the man’s hair as he dragged the shirt off a little desperately. Moaning openly he pressed back in, licking into Will’s mouth as his hands explored the naked expanse of his torso. Frederick felt ultra-sensitive to all of Will’s actions; his gasps and sighs and his finger’s running over Frederick’s heated skin. Every response provoked a corresponding spike of lust through Frederick’s body and finally his self-discipline began to falter. With a low whine he helplessly rolled his hips into Will, feeling very much at the man’s mercy.

Will growled into the kiss, grabbing Frederick firmly by the hips and pulling him as close as possible. He could feel him through his slacks, the outline of his cock starting to take notice of the way they kissed and pressed and touched like they were starving for each other. He himself could feel the way arousal stirred low in his stomach, hot and dangerous as Frederick’s hands explored his skin. It was good, it was _so_ good, so hot and frantic and _finally_ , fucking _finally_.

With clumsy hands he worked on getting Frederick’s shirt off. He was so tempted to just tear the damn thing, send buttons scattering everywhere, but he had a strong feeling that Frederick’s clothing was ridiculously expensive and well cared for. Instead he fought the buttons one-by-one, giving a triumphant “ha!” as the last was opened. He pushed the shirt over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap at their feet. The new expanse of skin at his disposal made his mouth water. Frederick was absolutely breath-taking; his skin was smooth and tan, a dusting of chest hair trailing down his torso and cutting a tantalizing path that disappeared into his pants. Will desperately wanted to see where it lead. 

Grabbing Frederick’s hips firmly, Will flipped them so he could press him into the sink, trailing hot kisses along his shoulder. When he reached a collar bone he bit down, moaning softly.

A sharp cry escaped his lips as Frederick was backed into the sink and he wound his fingers into Will’s hair to ground himself. Powerless under Will’s mouth, he found the more he was manhandled the less he was inclined to resist; arching into Will’s touch and baring his throat without hesitation.

“ _Will_ …” Frederick didn’t know what to say. It was all moving so fast he was afraid he was going to miss something. Will continued to pull small sighs and moans from his lips as he mouthed over Frederick’s skin. Goosebumps arose wherever he licked and bit at the heated skin and Frederick trembled gently under the lascivious treatment. He wished he knew how to tell Will what he was doing to him. To explain that the commanding slide of his palm over Frederick’s torso or the drag of teeth over a bared neck was having an unfathomable effect on his desire for Will.

“Will, your fucking mouth…” he breathed, rising into Will’s touch. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me- Ah!” A small nip sent a bolt of arousal through him and his hips jumped against Will’s. Dizzy with lust, he focused on Will’s face in an attempt to steady himself, but found the sight so sensual he had to close his eyes.

Will brought a hand up, trembling slightly as he ran his fingertips lightly over Frederick’s cheek. His eyes were blown dark in a sort of wide-eyed lust; he looked absolutely lost, lips red from kissing and hair sticking up in every angle. Frederick though, Frederick looked _perfect_. How could someone be so put-together at a time like this? Despite his half-dressed state he still carried an air of elegance, still carried his class and expensive tastes in the curve of his lips and the arch of his back. 

Will caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over Frederick’s shoulder, eyes heavy lidded at he kissed along the column of his throat. He was caught off guard by how _fevered_ he looked.

Tearing himself away, he caught Frederick’s eyes as he panted to regain his breath. Managing a helpless laugh, he pressed a sweet kiss to Frederick’s lips. “I… _fuck_. I want you so bad right now, but...I’ve wanted you for a while, and...I think I have a pretty high fever, and I don’t want our first time together to be a blur.” He looked apologetic, stroking Frederick’s cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…you just. You mean too much to me. For it to be something I can barely hold onto in my mind.” He leaned in, kissing him once, twice, three more times, quick pecks against hungry lips. “I’m sorry…”

The sting of guilt tore at Frederick’s chest and he nodded, pushing Will’s curls off of his forehead and following with small apologetic kisses.

“Yes, I’m sorry…” Frederick knew he should have waited, should have held back for the right moment. Will was still weak from sickness, and Frederick had gotten carried away. He ran his hands apologetically over Will’s waist, pulling the man to his chest and pressing his face to Will’s neck. He breathed deeply and felt his frantic heartbeat beginning to slow as tenderness and guilt warred for a place in his chest.

“I know, it wasn’t very good timing on my part. You just looked so…” He didn’t know why he was making excuses, but the image of Will pulling him closer, pressing his mouth eagerly to Frederick’s came back to him and he sighed.

“You looked _terrific_.” Right now Will needed rest and Frederick needed to to reign in his neediness. He fought to keep the walls down, but regret had already gotten in a foothold. He held Will tightly, feeling very sorry for the distance that was imminently going to appear between them. Will would probably need time to recover, and to think. Frederick would need some time to reflect on his absolute abysmal lack of self-control and how it might’ve potentially ruined whatever had been growing between himself and Will.

“You need to hydrate. And I should probably let you sleep. You need to recover.” He tried to sound confident, but his voice only sounded small and muffled against Will’s skin. He squeezed tightly before releasing the other man, immediately chilled as the cold air in the bathroom swept over his naked torso. Without the ability to hide against Will’s skin, the guilt and remorse seemed to find him easily and he averted his eyes, pretending to search for his lost button-down.

Will watched for a moment, aching at the sight of Frederick looking so rejected. He felt like an absolute ass. There were probably a thousand better ways to explain himself, somehow he managed to say all the wrong words. He could _feel_ Frederick’s guilt, could feel the rejection and emptiness. It was the danger of him being close to anyone; their emotions were his emotions too.

Bringing his hand up, Will used two fingers under Frederick’s chin to bring his face back up. This time when he leaned in to kiss him it was warm, affectionate and sweet and just barely tinged by the passion that had them tearing at each other’s clothes mere moments ago. He tried to convey everything he felt through that kiss. He wished that the simple act of lips on lips could allay all of Frederick’s fears, wash away his doubts.

Will knew how the human mind worked, sometimes words were needed.

“You have nothing to feel guilty over,” he said, eyes bright. “That was as much me as it was you, and I _liked_ it. Really liked it, actually. I just have this nagging fear that I might get sick on you and that would be traumatic for both of us.” He grinned, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of Frederick’s mouth. “I really don’t want you to go,” he admitted. “I know you don’t have clothes here, but...I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Frederick followed Will’s lips, pressing his answering relief into the kiss. His eyelashes felt slightly wet as he rubbed his face into Will’s shoulder and kissed under his ear. He felt foolish, but immeasurably full at the same time. Every time Will said something to reassure him, it always worked without fail, and it was starting to become a common occurrence. He took solace in the idea that Will was beginning to be a respite from those feelings that not long ago had been ever-present.

“Time to get you to bed, then.” He smiled against Will’s fevered skin, silently accepting Will’s invitation to stay as he pushed away his doubts with determination. Will seemed to have that effect on him- giving him the courage to act with certainty. Over time it would come easier, but already he could see the changes. He pulled back and gave Will a considering look, sporting his best considerate ‘doctor’ face.

“I prescribe copious amounts of water, anti-inflammatory medication, and many, many hours of undisturbed rest.”

Frederick thought an herbal tea might help to bring the fever down as well. Suddenly his mind went into overdrive thinking of how best to tackle Will’s fever, his gaze becoming unfocused as his fingers idly linked with Will’s.

Will smiled, leaning in to kiss his temple. “Come back to me, doctor.” He brought Frederick’s hand up, kissing his knuckles before tugging him out of the bathroom and back down the hall to the kitchen. “I need to pick up more aspirin soon, after the case these week I’ve been speeding through my bottle. Is there anything I can get you?” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water and drinking it in a few thirsty gulps. After refilling it he grabbed the aspirin, shaking a few into his palm and swallowing them quickly. 

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” Frederick shook his head, worrying slightly at Will’s apparent continuous need to fight the fever. How long had it been like this?

“If Jack calls tomorrow I’m going to let you answer. Just to see what happens,” Will smirked, shaking his head.

“It would be my pleasure,” Frederick responded with a conspiratory grin.

Winston padded up to the men, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sniffed cautiously at Frederick, eying him before nuzzling a wet nose into his palm. Frederick glanced down and his face immediately softened. He slowly slid to one knee, pouting at the dog and running his hands over the soft hair on his ears.

“Oh look at youuu.” He cooed, smoothing the fur back from Winston’s face. He glanced up at Will, delight evident on his face.

“What a handsome dog! Which one is this?”

Will turned to look, smiling at the display before him. “That’s Winston. He’s the newest member of the family.” Stepping closer, he ran his hand down Winston’s smooth fur to scritch along his back. “We bonded pretty fast. He keeps an eye on me.” He failed to mention his bouts of sleepwalking, being found far from home with Winston trailing dutifully behind. That was before he’d even met Frederick, no reason to alarm him over something in the past.

“I have uh. Seven dogs,” he laughed. “I can’t help it, if I see a stray they come home with me. I can’t just leave them wandering, you know?” He looked over to the dogs, piled on their beds in front of the fireplace. Buster was stretched out, snoring slightly, feet on Lola’s face. “They’re definitely my soft spot.”

Standing, Frederick felt another wave of tenderness for Will wash over him. He gave into it, standing up and leaning forward to press a chaste kiss just to the right of Will’s mouth, lingering before pulling away. He smiled shyly as he eased back, looking into the living room at all the comfortable animals, each with their own space, each clearly at home. _One of the many things I’m coming to love about you_ , he wanted to say, but kept it inside, close and tight against his heart.

“I think you really ought to get uninterrupted sleep…” Frederick shared his nagging thought, finally having a moment to take in Will’s ‘bedroom’. He was sure having himself squeezed in beside Will in the small bed would not do well for the man’s recovery.

“I have _seven dogs_. How often do you think that happens?” he asked, smirking. “If you think you’re going to do anything other than keep me warm and comfortable you’re very mistaken.” He stepped close, wrapping his arms around Frederick. “I feel safer having you here,” he murmured into his hair.

Goosebumps travelled up and down Frederick's arms and leaned into Will with a put-upon sigh.

"Well at least you've got your physician with you." He laughed and turned to Will, caught by the way the light fell softly over the planes of the man's face. "Terrific..." He murmured again, remembering why he'd had such a hard time holding back when he'd first kissed Will.

Will smiled, kissing him softly. "Come on, I'll find you something to wear." After a few minutes he had located pajamas that would work for Frederick, passing them over. 

"I should um...probably explain why my bed is in the living room," he murmured, suddenly self conscious about the state of his house. He glanced from the boat engine on the kitchen table to the winter clothes thrown haphazardly on his couch, blushing. "I was having some issues with sleepwalking. I figured I'd be safer downstairs." He conveniently left out the part about waking up on his roof, the dogs barking nervously behind him. He didn't want to scare Frederick out of his bed before he even got him into it. 

"I promise, I'm a grown adult who usually has a normal bedroom." He smiled sheepishly, shrugging. 

Frederick unzipped his slacks and stepped out of them, folding them over the back of the couch. After what they'd done already, Frederick found he wasn't all that self conscious. He stepped into the lounge pants and sat on Will's bed, a sense of ease coming over him.

"I don't mind at all. This is your home. It feels good to see you comfortable." He said with a laugh, feeling a blush creeping up his neck.

"I'm glad you called me..." Frederick remembered his panic during the drive as he’d tried to elicit a response from the unconscious Will on the other end of the phone. He’d feared the worse, after what had happened with Budge. The circumstances around each of the Ripper murders were beginning to draw closer and closer to Will, a fact that was hard to ignore and made Frederick _very_ uneasy.

Will sat next to him, watching one of the dogs-a little scruffy thing named Beatrice-grumble in get sleep. "I'm glad you came. I mean, because I was so sick, of course. But also...I'm just glad you're here. I'm glad that what happened, happened." He looked over, offering a vulnerable smile. 

Leaning in, he softly kissed Frederick's jaw before sliding into bed. Crawling under the covers, he looked expectantly at his companion. "It's been a long time since I cuddled," he admitted, grinning. 

Frederick nodded, also sliding under the sheet and pressing his feet against Will's.

"Me too," Frederick admitted, opening his arms and encouraging Will closer.

"I think we'll be okay though."

Will moved close, resting his head on Frederick's chest as their bodies curled together. "This is good," he murmured. "I like this."

Laying down, warm and comfortable with soothing arms wrapped around him, it finally hit Will just how weary he was. His limbs felt heavy, clumsy as he absently rubbed at Frederick's chest. The heat of his fever made sweat prickle at his temples, but it wasn't enough to drive him away from the warm body under him. 

"Tomorrow...tomorrow I'm making you breakfast," he slurred, already half out. It didn't take long for him to pass out completely, a heavy weight as he laid half on top of Frederick. Wherever Will touched him, Frederick's skin burned. His fingers were like a hot brand on Frederick's chest, and he could feel sweat beading everywhere they touched. To know Will was so overheated made Frederick nervous. It didn't seem like a normal fever, and the frequency with which Will was popping pills to ease the inflammation was concerning to say the least.

Will was an adult, and Frederick knew Will could take care of himself. He wouldn't intervene unless it was absolutely necessary, but nevertheless it was hard to see Will so uncomfortable.

Frederick idly stroked his fingers through Will's hair, knowing it would take an earthquake to wake Will up now, whose chest was already rising with the shallow breaths of sleep. He took a moment to appreciate his position, welcomed for the first time in years into someone else's life: their home, their bed, their heart. Frederick was simultaneously terrified and filled with happiness. It would be devastating to ruin such a good thing with his ever present self-deprecation and typical erecting of walls in hopes of staying in control of the people around him. He couldn't do that with Will, and it had very nearly happened that night.

Despite it all, Will seemed quite capable of taking Frederick’s quilt and disposing of it quickly and efficiently. Frederick had never met anyone who could make him wonder at his own value so much before. Especially after Will had come to Frederick after Budge had attacked him. That had been a true show of trust and faith in Frederick, one we would not soon forget. He watched Will for a moment before settling his head back onto the pillow, comforted by the sure weight of Will on his chest. Closing his eyes, he hoped the morning would find them exactly as they were now.


	5. Chapter 4 b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small addition to chapter 4. This chapter contains smut!

Will woke in a state of confusion. It had been quite a while since he'd come to wrapped around another body, his mind lagged as it slowly recalled the night before. Images of Frederick pressed between his body and the sink flashed through his mind, pulling his lips into a lazy smile. 

Sitting up, he enjoyed a few uninterrupted minutes of watching Frederick sleep. He looked so calm, like there was no outside world to worry him. It was a rare look for Frederick. He was always so troubled, between work and Abel Gideon and Will himself. Will was already enamoured with watching the way his chest rose and fell, the way his lips gently parted as he breathed. 

He took a moment to look down at himself. He was fairly disgusting from his episode the previous night. Leaning in, he softly pressed his lips to Frederick's forehead before sliding out of bed, padding barefoot into the kitchen. Once the dogs were fed he made his way into the bathroom, starting the shower and stripping out of his clothes. 

The first spray of water on his skin made him gasp, relieved as he was by the refreshing cascade. He groaned, dropping his head forward as he let the heat envelope his aching muscles. 

The distant swell of water pulled Frederick slowly out of sleep and with a shaky yawn he spread his palms out in the bed, feeling for warmth. Beside him was a lingering heat and he hummed, turning on his side to curl over the space but he soon realized it was empty. With a growing awareness, Frederick opened his eyes and groggily took in the room, lit with a bluish early morning light and he again welcomed the unmistakable sound of the shower. The thoughts came unbidden, soothing over him in the crisp, clear way images usually come upon waking.

Fleeting but vivid, his imagination supplied flashes of a vision of Will; the long expanse of his back, faintly freckled by the sun, his curls clinging wet to the back of his neck. He saw the shift in the muscle of Will’s thighs and he transferred his weight from foot to foot idly while large palms rubbed soap across his chest. There was a flash of Will tilting his face into the spray, of leaning back against the wall of the shower, languidly stroking himself to hardness as water dripped from his nose.

Breaking from his reverie, Frederick sat up abruptly, mouth set in a grim line as a flash of guilt passed through him again. He lifted the sheets and after a quick glance underneath gathered them around his waist again, his cheeks burning as he looked apologetically at Buster, who had settled at the foot of the bed. The terrier’s tail batted happily against the comforter and he looked expectantly at Frederick who refused to make eye contact.

Hurriedly, he slipped out of the bed, hissing at the cold of the floor. He took a moment to look around; the dogs seemed unfazed by him. Everything in its place, everything quiet and peaceful: the room speaking volumes about Will whereas Frederick’s home said nothing about him. Or, he realized, really only spoke to his faults, and wasn’t _that_ embarrassing?

His feet began to move unexpectedly and he found himself padding to the bathroom, once more feeling that invisible tug between Will and himself. The door was ajar and he stood on the edge, staring at the small column of light with some trepidation, though the feeling seemed to diminish rapidly. He pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted by the cloying stickiness of the humid air as it began to swaddle him. He quickly began to strip off his pants and socks and naked, stood on the edge of indecision as he watched Will’s blurry form move sinuously behind the sliding door of the shower.

Barely holding his anxiety at bay, Frederick steeled himself and tapped gently on the corner of the door before he slid it aside and slipped in behind Will.

Will looked over his shoulder, an amused look on his face. "Well, good morning." He turned, slicking his hair back and offering a wide smile. A night's sleep had clearly done him well. The fevered glaze was gone from his eyes, and though his vision was blurry without his glasses he looked much more focused. 

He stepped closer, eyes sweeping greedily over Frederick's body. Thin hands reached out to grab his hips, gently squeezing and guiding him nearer. It was sexy, it was spontaneous, but it was also comfortable in a way that wrenched Will 's heart. The ability to take like this, to know his feelings were met and returned... Leaning in, he pressed wet lips to Frederick's. "Sleep good?" His hands were already starting to roam, exploring the warm expanse of skin now at his disposal.

With a hum, Frederick licked his lips as Will closed in, his own hands tentatively finding Will’s slim waist. His heart was beating raggedly against his chest with terror and excitement as his thumbs rubbed nervously against Will’s hipbone. What possessed him to cross this boundary so soon after their first kiss, he wasn’t sure. He still felt it, even stronger now with the proximity; that tug between Will and himself. It reminded him of the nervous feeling of ‘butterflies’, but it was more solid, more established. It pulled his hips closer to Will’s, urged him to swallow the small distance between them.

The small fear that they would wake up with a distance between them appeared to have no grounds and Frederick realized he had been worrying needlessly, again. It seemed as though all fears he had were unfounded around Will. Affection filled him at the thought and he leaned in to press his lips chastely to Will’s cheek, a calm feeling descending despite the frantic beating of his heart.

"You're beautiful," he sighed as his lips meandered down to capture Will’s, hands sliding down over the curve of Will's ass. He wasn’t feeling particularly eloquent that morning, the emotion blossoming in his chest seeming to numb him from any kind of cerebral output. His thoughts usually took quite a while to come together in the mornings and his mind was running on autopilot. It continued to do so now as he sighed against Will’s skin and let his hands wander unhindered over slick skin.

Will finally closed the space between them, unable to bite back a moan as their bodies pressed together. “You know how last night I didn’t want to go too far, because of the fever?” He smirked, sliding his tongue teasingly over Frederick’s bottom lip. “Well I’m feeling totally fine today. In fact I feel _fantastic_.” He slid his hands to the small of Frederick’s back, running his fingertips lightly over the sensitive skin.

Moving them back, he adjusted so they were both under the stream. The shower was fairly simple, a walk in with a sliding door, with a basket hanging over the head to hold Will’s simple collection of soap and shampoo. Despite the mess that was his house the bathroom was sparkling, as he had a minor thing about mold. There was just enough room for both of them to stand without knocking into the walls. 

“Great way to start the morning,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to slide through Frederick’s now-dripping hair.

Frederick gasped as their bodies met, feeling overly sensitive to the slide of Will against him. It seemed as though Will felt the same tug Frederick did as their hips met, sweetly fitting together. Will’s admission of want sent a shiver down Frederick’s spine and a coil of lust to unfurl in his stomach. _Little minx_ , he thought brokenly, rolling his hips forward with a low moan. His hands moved confidently but in his heart there was still a twinge of anxiety: for pushing himself into Will’s space, nude and clearly wanting as his erection nudged hopefully where Will’s thigh met his groin. Will did look much better off this morning, and seemed sure of himself: his hands were steady on Frederick's neck. 

Not only was his skin pinkened by the hot shower, but in the light Frederick could see much more subtle aspects of his complexion. His shoulders and neck were browned by the sun and a number of very light freckles had begun to spread outwards, stretching barely noticeable down Will’s arms. His stomach was slim but Frederick could see defined muscle and a bellybutton that he immediately knew he wanted to worship with his mouth. Fine dark hair started on his thighs and became coarser as it travelled down to his calves. Frederick covered Will’s bony toes with his own and ran his hands down Will’s thighs, dragging his fingers through the soft hair with no small amount of want.

So stunning was Will, with the water cascading over his pink chest, and his lips open and inviting that Frederick felt oddly plain in comparison. He pushed Will’s wet hair back from his forehead where it seemed to keep slipping, and leaned in to press a reverent kiss at his temple, lingering and sighing as the water let him slide his lips easily down where he moaned into a hungry kiss.

“You’ve no idea how good you look,” he whimpered, tentatively rolling his hips into Will’s again. “What a gift it is to see you like this.”

Will gave a soft gasp, fingertips just barely digging into Frederick’s back. His skin was so soft, supple and warm under his fingertips as they tentatively moved against each other. There was a sweetness in their trepidation, the room quiet save for their heavy breathing and the rainfall of the water hitting the tiled floor. With a low moan he leaned in, letting his lips scrape against Frederick’s jaw and lower, following the tendons of his neck. All he could think about was his tremendous luck in all of this; he usually had to work so hard to make friends, let alone entice lovers. Somehow Frederick was attracted to their camaraderie, this easy give-and-take between them. The feeling was so overwhelming that it helped him forget all of the trauma of this past week, for once his mind revelling in the good.

Pulling back slightly, Will took a moment to appreciate the body in front of him. They were so physically different. Where he was long and lithe Frederick was more compact, solid and firm with plenty of lovely areas to grab onto. Where Will was covered in freckles from days outside Frederick had an olive complexion, skin almost golden in the dim light of the bathroom. His dark, sleek hair was always tidy, which made it even more electrifying to see it falling in his eyes like this.

And those _eyes_ , Jesus. Wide and trusting and almost awed at the turn of events. The look Frederick gave him filled Will with a sense of responsibility he had never felt. Frederick _trusted_ him, and was clearly putty in his hands. And Will took that seriously. He wanted everything to be perfect for him, wanted to provide and protect and guard him with his life.

Will once more pulled their bodies flush, erection stirring against Frederick as he rolled their hips together. He nipped gently at Frederick’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth to lave a soothing tongue over it. “Mmm…”

Tense and anxious, Frederick caught Will’s lips before they could wander away again, licking into his mouth languidly. Though their arousal continued to grow, Frederick wanted to meter out his time with Will, making sure he didn’t push too far or hold too much back. Perhaps the key lay in putting control in Will’s hands, and Frederick liked the idea immensely the longer he entertained it. He smelled the arousal on Will, tasted the salt on his skin where it lingered in small patched below jaw and behind his ears. The returned want, the clear desire blossoming in Will, struck Frederick hard and lust coursed through him, delirious on the taste and feel of the man before him.

He wrapped his hands around Will’s middle, one hand sliding up between a pair of sharp shoulder blades, the other slipping down to splay across Will’s bottom. With a teasing kiss, he eased back, pulling Will with him until he touched the wall of the cramped shower and hugged Will closer, burying his face into the crook of the man’s neck.

“Show me what you like.” He practically begged, voice husky as a thumb slid over a dimple he found above Will’s backside.

Will let out a strangled groan, the sound pathetic as it slid past his lips. His first instinct was to pin Frederick hard against the wall of the shower, to bite him and claim him and not let up until he was absolutely _mindless_ with how good he felt. A small voice in the back of his mind was persistent though; _there’s plenty of time for that. This is new. Take your time. Explore. Go slow_. Taking a steadying breath, he let his hands wander up, sliding over Frederick’s chest to rest on either side of his collar bones. “Where to start?” he breathed, kissing Frederick with an unhurried languor that made his toes curl and his cock twitch against slick skin. 

“I definitely like this,” he murmured, tongue insistent as he slid past Frederick’s lips, licking and tasting and sucking as he saw fit. As their mouths worked together he thrust lazily against him, dicks sliding and bumping together as steam built around them. It was almost overwhelming. Frederick’s length was beautifully thick, standing proud against the dark thatch of hair below his stomach.

“I’m also a fan of this,” he moaned, trailing away to press sucking kisses just behind Frederick’s ear. He nibbled at the sensitive skin there, eyes falling shut as he explored the taste of him.

Breath coming hard and fast, Frederick arched into every touch. Though he allowed Will to set the pace, his hands wandered greedily over slick skin. Thumbs settling on Will’s hips, he looked down and watched them slide together. The sight was exquisite and obscene, drawing a quiet gasp from him as he rocked lazily against the other man. He ached to touch Will. Loved the way Will was so hard and slick where his erection bumped against Frederick’s hipbone. 

He looked up, stealing a slow kiss as his hand meandered between their bodies. Leaning back a little, he locked eyes as he touched Will first, sliding an exploratory thumb over the head of his cock before curling his fingers loosely around him. He let the water work for him, and Will slid easily through the ring of his fist as Frederick pumped the hardness teasingly. He opened his grip and angled himself to push in alongside Will, holding his gaze the entire time.Though his fingers were long it was impossible to reach around the both of them, and their erections slid messily together in Frederick’s imperfect grasp. As his mouth became lax, opened in a small 'o' of pleasure, he struggled to maintain eye contact, eyes heavy lidded and dark.

“What about this?” He whispered huskily as he stared at Will over his nose, head titling back against the tiled wall. His voice was rich and dark within the small space and finally he closed his eyes and offered Will his bare throat. He continued to thrust shallowly as his other hand sunk down to gently roll and caress Will's sac.

“Do you like _this?_ ” A gentle but inadequate squeeze, though Frederick felt Will's answering flex against his palm. They were both incredibly hard and leaking, and Frederick let his hips jut forward to securely fit against Will's, his hand tight between them.

Will growled possessively, surging forward to suck and bite along the column of Frederick’s throat. Bracing a hand on either side of him, he thrust his hips forward firmly. “Your dick feels so good against mine,” he panted, voice sweet and dangerous. “Sliding against me, so fucking hard…” He choked out a gasp, his chest pressed tight to Frederick’s as he rolled against him.

His own hand found its way down to join Frederick’s, adding to the delicious heat and friction encircling their lengths. It was sloppy, messy and unhurried and absolutely perfect. For the first time in a great while he was unafraid to meet the eyes staring back at them. He felt a surprising lack of nerves, even though it had been a good while since he was naked with someone. 

“Frederick, you’re so _god damn perfect_ ,” he grit out, teeth clenched together. 

Catching Frederick’s thumb under his own, he slid their digits teasingly over the tip of Frederick’s leaking cock, just barely circling the head. “What do _you_ like?” he purred, eyes heavy lidded as he looked back up.

Frederick whined, unable to stop himself from looking down again, the vision of their cocks surging through the ring of their joined hands causing him to gasp and close his eyes. “ I _like_...,” He started, biting his lip and pulling Will closer with a possessive hand on his ass, “That you say what you _want._ ” He opened his eyes again, and they were a dark stormy green, narrowed with the effort to stay in control.

“That you _take_ what you want.” He punctuated his words by squeezing slightly tighter and slowing his thrusts so he could feel every drag of Will’s cock against his own. He leaned forward to rest his forehead in the crook of Will’s neck, keening with the effort to maintain the slow pace.

“Every time something… _lewd_ … comes out of your mouth,” he moaned throatily, “It makes me so fucking _hard_.” He was vaguely aware that their shower had lasted an awfully long time, and that they were going to drain Will’s well, but all the blood seemed to have rushed from his brain and his focus revolved solely around where their hands were joined and their cocks leaked eagerly against each other. 

Will gave an indelicate grunt, pressing hard into Frederick. He slid his free hand down, stroking a trembling thigh before lifting and hooking it around his waist. It gave them a better angle, their leaking erections pulling and dragging as they thrust together. 

“Jesus Frederick,” Will hissed, eyes dark as they got closer and closer to the edge. “Do you know what I want more than anything else?” he said, voice rough. Leaning in, he tugged Frederick’s earlobe between insistent teeth. “I want to see you come. To see your face when you let go, how fucking _beautiful you look_.” He continued to hold tight to Frederick’s thigh, squeezing firmly as their hips rocked together. The water spilling over them was starting to cool off, but the air between them was scorching hot. Will’s words sent a shudder through Frederick and he cried out, the rhythm of his hips faltering.

“ _Yesss, Will, fuck-_ ” The new angle of Will’s thrusts had Will’s cock sliding against Frederick’s perfectly, rubbing insistently against his frenulum. Praises sweet and obscene poured over him and Frederick leaned in to steal a frantic kiss before his hips spasmed and he came with a quiet whine. His head made a hollow thump as it bounced against the tiles but he didn’t seem to notice as his hips stuttered against Will, each pulse a prolonged thrust as he gasped and turned his cheek to the shower wall. His voice found him again and he whimpered brokenly as the last waves of his orgasm shuddered through him.

" _Will, Will, Will..._ "

He continued to thrust weakly as his senses began to return. Passion and emotion welled up in him and he hungrily reached for Will’s lips, biting and moaning and sliding his tongue against Will’s as he fought to continue thrusting, his erection ultra-sensitive and fading.

Will gasped, eyes wide and hungry as he watched Frederick tip over the edge. It was stunning-he looked so _raw_ , so satisfied and blissed-out as his body spasmed between Will and the wall. With that beautiful image to cling to Will came as well, a sharp cry of Frederick’s name tearing itself from his lips. His nails dug ever-so-slightly into the skin of his thigh, leaving crescent moon indentations that quickly faded.

As their hips slowed and then fully stopped, Will trailed lazy kisses along Frederick’s should. 

“So good, absolutely perfect,” he whispered, breathless and panting. “Amazing Frederick, oh my God…”

The water continued to run over them for a moment before Frederick had the sense to reach out and push in the shower valve. The water trickled to a stop and the room was finally silent but for the sound of their combined breaths beginning to slow. He watched Will from under his eyelashes, tenderness and warmth flowing through him like a drug. He eased away from the wall, pushing with steadying hands on Will’s hips. As Will’s back touched the wall Frederick shifted close, mouth closing over Will’s soundly. With a contented groan he came to stand between Will’s feet, hands sliding to the small of the other man’s back to pull them flush as he licked lazily into Will’s mouth. He kissed and bit Will’s lips until they were red and abused and then pulled back to regard the other man with dark eyes, pushing a thumb over a tender bottom lip.

“The things you do to me…” He began, his voice still thick with want , “The things you _say_ … I won’t ever be able to forget them. When I am trying to go about a normal day, meeting with patients and spending tedious hours doing paperwork, I will hear your voice in my mind. When I am home and strung out from a long day and restless with my _want_ for you, your words will _haunt_ me.” He took Will’s hand and pressed it against Frederick’s own throat, hoping Will could feel his desire in the vibrations from his voice. Will’s fingers were searing hot against Frederick’s cooling skin and he relished the slide of the callouses against the vulnerable skin of his throat, eyes closing with a pleased sigh.

“Your touch is like a _brand_.” He leaned back in again to fit his mouth securely to Will’s, kissing him with restraint and a strong fondness. When he pulled back he felt weak as his heart fluttered uselessly against his chest.

As they kissed Will lightly pressed his fingers into the skin of Frederick’s throat. He could feel the steady pulse of his carotid artery, quick but rhythmic. Frederick felt so alive against him, warm and pliant and glowing from his climax. Will would never forget the feeling.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Will slurred, lips pressed to his jaw. “ _So long_. It’s been almost impossible being so close to you and not being able to touch you, to bring you as much pleasure as I could manage…” In his own chest Will’s heart beat a short, happy cadence, pounding and elated against his ribcage. Their morning tryst had been amazingly sexy, but it had been almost domestic, sweet and affectionate. Everything Will had been missing in his life for so long.

He gave Frederick one more slow, sweet kiss before stepping out, grabbing a towel and beckoning him close. 

“C’mere,” he grinned. Once Frederick complied he dried him off, slow and reverent with each stroke. When he moved up to his hair he rubbed fast and firm, laughing when he pulled the towel away. “So it IS possible for your hair to fall out of place.”

With a chuckle, Frederick grabbed the towel out of Will's hands.

"Hmmm, yes. And you're the only one who gets to see it!" He draped the towel over Will's head and gently squeezed the dampness away. He shimmied the towel down, pressing it over a naked chest before slinging it around narrow hips and tugging Will close.

Will's skin was pink, cheeks flushed with colour, his eyes bright. Frederick grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before stepping back and sliding to one knee, staring up with a vulnerable expression as he patted down Will's legs with the towel.

"You look good enough to eat," he murmured as he pressed a tender kiss to Will's hip. "You're lucky you've already worn me out."

As reality sank in, Frederick almost couldn't believe how far they'd come, how much they'd done together. It was almost impossible how he's gotten to taste Will's lips, feel the heat of his cock in his hand, that they'd been so naked and so open with each other. He'd never be able to get Will's filthy mouth out of his mind. He hadn't been kidding before. The words that had come out of Will's mouth, the _sex_ in his voice, was going to haunt Frederick everyday.

He stood, sliding his hand up the back of Will thighs, petting his bum fondly.

"Let's go," he tugged Will to him and pressed his face into the crook of his neck, arms coming to securely wrap around Will's middle.

"Let me take care of you."

**Author's Note:**

> There is quite a bit of this fic written already, with the chapters all planned out. We're going to try and keep updates steady, we promise to do our best! Come find us on tumblr as prittleprince and that-vicious-vixen!


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